Demon Fire
by Grand High Idol
Summary: [Rated for graphic violence] Be careful of what you say...be careful of what you believe...be careful of what you wish for...for the most terrifying thing is the demon within. [Cyberchase fanfic]
1. Part I

He drifted in the darkness of Castleblanca, pondering to himself about what had happened so many days ago. Every thought of it filled him with hatred; with rage. For a few weeks ago, he had been murdered by the very same one who had murdered him…who had caused him the death he had witnessed.

He knew that now dead, he could no longer feel pain, nor suffering, but he still felt anger and rage. That anger and rage was targeted towards one, and only one, individual: Delete, the recessive robot henchman of the Hacker.

But he didn't just want to kill Delete; oh no, he wanted to kill him and everyone who dared to interfere with him in a "friendly" manner—and that included Buzz, Digit, Matt, Jackie, Inez, and several others he had known before his death. He knew that they too must die, for last time he had realized that the interference with that obnoxious red haired boy deprived him of precious moments until Delete's planned death. But now that he was dead, he could no longer plan on killing them.

He needed someone who would follow his every move…he needed someone who would be able to kill without suspicion…he needed someone whom he could control without much trouble…

He needed someone living…

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

WARNING: this story is rated R for graphic violence and gore.

It was unusually quiet in the Northern Frontier that day; of course, maybe that was because Hacker was inside his ship, trying to figure out what his next plan to take over cyberspace would be. There was hardly any sound in the air outside, possibly if you ruled out Delete's complaining…

"This is taking too long!" Delete complained as he wiped the excess dust off the taillight of the Grim Wreaker. "We've been working for hours and we've only got half the ship cleaned!"

Buzz, who was working next to him, replied, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's been hard to clean 'dis thing after Hacker got rid of the cleaning device—" he rolled his eyes—"for _obvious_ reasons."

"It's not fair, though!" Delete whined. 

"Well, 'dat's da Boss for yas," Buzz replied boredly, getting sick of listening to Delete complain. He wiped off one of the back windows, then continued, "And you would've gotten a lot more done if you had stopped whining and helped me over here!"

Delete shot a frustrated glare at his older brother and was just about to get back to cleaning the taillight more when Hacker's voice shouted from inside the Wreaker, "Get over here, you dithering duncebuckets!"

The two robots, at hearing their boss's call, immediately stopped what they were doing and bolted inside the ship, to the main room. They stopped in front of Hacker, who was standing in front of his control panel and looking, as always, dead serious and a bit peeved. In his hand was a small mirror; the other held a clear glass square.

"I introduce you, my soft-headed sidekicks, to my latest plan to take over cyberspace!" Hacker announced. He showed them the mirror and the glass. "And the simple plot devices will be these two simple items."

Buzz scratched his head. "I don't get it, Boss," he said. "How's a mirror and a glass square supposed to help take over cyberspace?"

"I was just getting to that!" Hacker snapped at him. Buzz, surprised by the sudden change of mood, quickly backed up as Hacker continued, "I shall now show you just what these two items can do." He held the glass square up to one of the brightly-lit windows. "Observe."

The two androids looked at the square, looks of great curiosity on their faces, as Hacker held the mirror up in front of it. After a few tense seconds the bright light shot through the glass, magnifying it, but only by a little. The light hit the mirror, ricocheted off of its surface, and struck the floor. The two jumped back in surprise as the light flashed for a moment, then dimmed out; when it was done, they saw that the floor had been burnt black where the light had struck it.

"Wow…" Delete seemed greatly impressed.

Hacker lowered the glass square, then said, "You see? The plan is foolproof; we're just going to try it with a larger mirror and a _much_ larger glass square."

"What are we going to do with it though?" Delete asked, still confused.

Hacker glared at him; he looked about ready to strike. "Didn't you see the demonstration, you duncebucket!?" Delete shook with fear, as he always did when Hacker talked like this. "With a larger mirror and a larger square, we're going to use this source of light power to destroy a cybersite with a single strike! We'll wipe them out one by one, starting with…" he thought for a moment, then said, "Castleblanca. That seems like a good spot."

"C-Castleblanca?" Delete asked nervously, remembering what had happened when he went there the last two times, which were much less than pleasant.

"Yes, Castleblanca!" Hacker snapped back at him, obviously annoyed. "You two are going to hold the glass in the right position, while the mirror is set someplace else. Then, as soon as we get a good light—Zap! It's goodbye to the cybersite!"

Delete nervously nodded; Buzz did the same. Hacker looked at them and said, sounding a bit more satisfied than before, "Good, I'm glad that you agree. Now, set the navigator for Castleblanca! I have a cybersite to demolish!"

Delete and Buzz looked at each other, hoping that nothing went wrong there _this_ time…

Within a few moments, the two robots were both standing up, holding the glass square above their heads. Hacker had stationed them somewhere in the outskirts; Buzz was stationed at one tower, Delete was at the one across from him. There was a space between them about seven feet in length; it was higher up than it was long, though…the estimated drop was at least twenty feet or more. The two each had a side of the glass; they had to make sure that they kept a tight grip on it, or else the plan would fail for sure. Buzz kept a tight grip on it, for he knew that if Delete handled something fragile, it was more likely to get broken than remain intact.

It was quite a coincidence, however, that this was the exact area that 'he' hung out in; the darkness served perfectly for his form, and secrecy. He was still burning with anger as he sulked in the area, longing for revenge on the ones who had killed him more than ever now; who had made him nothing more than a form of energy; who had put an end to his plans for death. 

His spiritual teeth gritted more intensely and his eyes—now a horrifying blood red—glowed with the rage. He looked up from his dark corner towards the bright moonlit sky—and that's when he saw them. They were standing completely still, holding up a rather large glass square; neither one of them made any sudden movements, let alone speak to each other. 

At first he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He shook his head, then looked back up at them. His frown of rage suddenly broke out into a wide, menacing smile. Now was his chance to get revenge…after waiting so long, his wish had been answered, at long last. And the first step in his revenge plan was about to be performed.

He rose himself up without much trouble, being a spirit, of course, then crossed his arms over his chest, closed his gleaming eyes, and vanished, as so not to attract attention to either one of them; if he did, his plot would be ruined. He stopped and hovered at the edge of the tower, about thirty feet from where Delete was standing.

Still grinning menacingly, he opened his eyes, revealing their blood red glow, then threw out his chest and crossed his arms over it, slowly evaporating from the feet up; sooner or later he was nothing more than a black wind. He then slowly crept towards Delete, and sped up, aiming for his head…

Delete and Buzz were still standing, holding the glass square, as the familiar green light of the Grim Wreaker shone upon them. They closed their eyes, to prevent themselves from being blinded, then, when their vision had adjusted, slowly looked up towards the giant black ship. It was quite obvious, of course, that Hacker had arrived to watch his plan take action…either that or he wanted to make sure that neither of them screwed up. Delete and Buzz continued to stare, until finally Buzz shifted the mirror to one hand and, to let him know that everything was going just fine, saluted.

Delete was just about to salute as well when he suddenly felt something strike the back of his head. It didn't feel like a physical blow of any kind, yet the pain was unbearable; it felt like an invisible knife had been stabbed into his head and was slowly driving its way into his circuitry. He couldn't tend to it, however; his hands were both clamped firmly on the fragile glass square. But what could he do? It was horrible already, and was getting worse by the second…

Thinking of only one way to handle it in this particular situation, he strained to resist the urge to tend to it as he held the glass square even tighter. His palms started to sweat vigorously; he could feel it trickling down his fingers and onto the glass. The pain grew more and more intense, and his hands grew shakier, but he continued to keep his grip…he didn't want to screw this one up…in front of his boss, of all people…

The pain only grew worse than it had as he continued to resist. Tears of pain welled up in his eyes and his teeth clenched as he continued to fight the terrible urge. He felt cold sweat trickle down the side of his head as the pain continued to do its work—he wondered if anyone, if _human_, at the least, could ever resist this stabbing intensity as long as he had now. 

He started to shake even more as he threw his head back, still trying to keep his hold. He looked like a pony trying its best to lift something twice its weight. Buzz was looking at him strangely, wondering what was going on with him, but asked no questions and continued to keep his grip as well, glancing up at him every now and then.

Finally, Delete could bear it no longer. Emitting a loud cry of pain and long-suffered agony, he threw his hands up to the back of his neck, clutching it tightly as the tears continued to leak through his closed eyes. However, he had let go of the square at this time, unaware of it due to the pain, and Buzz, who had been startled by the sudden scream, jumped backward, dropping his side as well accidentally.

As Delete continued to rub his sore spot, he heard a horrifyingly loud shattering sound as the glass found its way to the ground. The noise tore him away from the still stinging pain in the back of his head, and he shakily looked over the edge of his side to find that the glass square had been reduced to nothing but a pile of glimmering shards, scattered all over the dusty ground on which they lay. Dust was still rising from the impact that it had made.

Looking down at the shards, it didn't take long for both Buzz and Delete to become horrified. Without the glass, the plan was no doubt ruined; and what was worse, Hacker had witnessed the entire thing from the Wreaker, still overhead. They knew that he would not be at all pleased with them…he would wring their necks (even though Buzz didn't physically _have_ one)…

At last, after a long time of staring at the dusty shards below with their mouths wide open in shock, Delete, his throat dry, finally swallowed hard and said, in a shaky, quiet tone, "Oops…"

"Buzz," Hacker said in an uncomfortably calm tone, his eyes narrowed, after they had entered the ship, "Come here."

Buzz, shaking, uneasily walked over, as Delete slowly walked down the ship's hallway, never stopping to look up; he didn't want to get Hacker's attention. As soon as the short robot had approached, Hacker, who had been sitting in his chair, slowly arose and shouted, at the top of his lungs, "WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING_?!"

"Boss, I can explain everythin—"

"Good! Can you explain _why_ exactly you dropped the glass?! Can you explain _why_ you didn't _do_ anything about it?! Can you explain _how_ you managed to screw up again?!"

"I—"

"You what! Wanted to apologize for ruining yet _another one_ of my would-be ingenious schemes?! Well, let me inform you of something—it's not going to work this time. I can't believe how many times my plans were ruined thanks to _you_! You and your dimwitted duncebucket brother can never do anything right! You can't even hold a simple glass square right!"

Buzz was starting to become upset, not to mention angry, but he didn't want to admit to this. He tried to say something, but all he could manage to get out was, "Boss, really, I—"

"Enough!" Hacker shouted, waving his hand. "I've had enough of you for today, thank you very much! Get out of here! Get out of my sight!"

Buzz, looking a bit crushed, nodded and slowly walked out of the room. He headed down the hallway, until he approached the room that Delete had entered. He stopped in front of it and stared at the door; it was their bedroom…the only room in the Wreaker that they actually could call theirs…

As Buzz stared at the door, his sadness and disappointment turned entirely to hate; to rage. Delete was the one who had caused him to drop the square, and yet _he_ was the one who had gotten blamed for it. His anger built as he continued to think of how Hacker scolded him…for something that he didn't even try to do…something that Delete had caused him to do…and Delete had gotten away with it while Buzz got Hacker's anger full blast.

His eyes flashing with hate and rage, Buzz pushed open the door to the room. Delete was sitting on the bed; he had his legs crossed and was toying around with a stray bolt. Buzz could tell that he was well over the pain he had seemed to be suffering from earlier; he was grinning broadly and singing to himself. 

In his level of rage, Buzz couldn't stand to see Delete smiling, especially after what he had caused him to go through. He stepped into the doorway; Delete turned his head up to look at him. "Oh, hi, Buzzie!" he said happily. "Boy, am I glad that the boss didn't take that too seriously. Aren't you?"

"You—" Buzz started to say through his tightly closed teeth; he could feel his hand starting to clench itself into a tight fist. 

Delete tilted his head, a bit puzzled at the way Buzz looked. "Buzz?" he asked, "Are you okay?"

Buzz took a deep, raspy breath to steady himself, then unclenched his fist and said calmly, "Delete, do you know exactly _why_ you thought he didn't take it 'dat seriously?"

Delete stared at him, then shook his head, obviously lost for words. Buzz, starting to feel the anger rising again, finally unleashed it and shouted, "_Because he took it out on ME, dat's why_!"

Delete dropped the bolt he was toying with and cowered back as Buzz said this, starting to shake; Buzz had never shouted at him like this before without a warning in his tone. Buzz, knowing that Delete was listening to him for sure now, continued, the anger still in his voice, "_I_ shouldn't have been the one 'dat was yelled at! It should've been _you_! _You_ were 'da one 'dat dropped 'da glass, not me!" He closed his eyes tightly for a while, starting to tense with the rage, then finally yelled, "You know what?! You are 'da most pitiful excuse for a robot in _all of cyberspace_!"

Delete was shocked. Buzz had never said anything like that to him before, much less even hint it. He could feel his eyes tearing up as he stammered, trying not to break down in front of him, "B-Buzz…how can y-you say s-something like th-that?"

"It's quite easy, Delete," Buzz said, crossing his arms and turning away from him. His eyes narrowed as he continued, his voice sounding cold and heartless, "You've always gotten underfoot. Whenever I was 'dis close—" he held up his hands about a half-inch away from each other as he turned back toward Delete—"_dis_ close—you've always been 'dere to screw it all up!"

Not noticing that he was taking out all of his rage toward everything on Delete, he sighed, then continued yet again, "You know why Hacker created you last? It's because he wanted to make a better model…one 'dat wouldn't screw up everything like I used to do. Well, he couldn't have been more wrong." Starting to feel himself cool down, he finally finished by saying, still in an angry tone, "Delete, you are a pathetic, low class screw-up, and I _mean _it 'dis time!"

"Buzz, you don't really—"

"What did I just say! I think I know when I mean something or not! And I mean it! You know, somehow I wish 'dat Digit had stayed instead of you. He was a klutz, but not as big a klutz as you are! You ain't good for nothing!" He paused, then added, "As a matter of fact, you, my friend, are a woithless ninny-hammer!"

Delete's vision became blurred as he fought to keep back his tears. So now it finally came out…Buzz thought he was a screw-up whose only job was to get in the way. After a long while, he finally managed to choke out, "Buzz…you _hate_ me, don't you?"

Buzz, without even pausing, turned his gaze towards the nearly broken Delete and said, his voice cold and emotionless, "_Yes_."

That one line, that 'yes', was the one that finally did it. Delete felt the tears fall from his eyes as he gave out a choking sob; his chest heaved heavily as he tried his hardest not to break down. Buzz, content that Delete had been given a good piece of his mind, left the room, leaving Delete in the room by himself.

As soon as Buzz had left, Delete was now alone in the room, with the lights now off (Buzz had flicked the switch as he went out; it was like he didn't know that Delete was even there anymore) and the light from the Grim Wreaker's hallway casting shadows across the room's interior. He buried his face in his arms and started to sob heavily, now that he knew that he had no one left who cared for him.

"Why did he say that?" he cried to himself. "He's never said that to me before…he's never even hinted it…and he doesn't like me…oh, man…*sniff* And he's not even sorry! I want him to feel it though…I just wish there was something I could do…but what? _What_?"

At that precise moment was when he heard a misty, cold, icy voice say, ever so quietly:

"_Kill him_."

Delete looked up and, wiping the tears from his eyes, scanned the room. No one appeared to be there, yet he swore that he had heard someone, and it had been close. He shook his head once or twice, then said, ever so timidly, "Who's there?"

All was silent for a brief moment, then the voice replied, yet again:

"_Who's there? I'm the only one with you, Delete. I have witnessed the event through your eyes, and I can assure you that nothing will improve unless you take up where I left off. Do what I failed to do. And that one thing that I failed at so long ago was to kill him_."

"Kill who?" Delete asked, becoming curious of what was going on. The voice sounded so familiar; almost like him, in fact; and it also knew his name. He wondered if it was his conscience speaking, as there was no one else in the room, and it seemed to be coming from inside his head…he had an uneasy feeling, but continued to listen to the eerie voice.

"_Kill who_?" the voice echoed, then a cold laugh aroused. "_You know who you must kill, Delete. You must kill the ones that were unkind to you. You must take revenge for what anyone has done to you. You must push them back into the mud that you had been pushed in before. You must experience the chance to burn within the flames of triumph; kick the ashes of defeat; smell the smoke of victory_."

"But—hold on—wait," Delete said. "Are you sayin' that I should kill all of the people who have been unkind to me?"

"_Exactly_."

"But—aren't some people always sayin' that you should forgive and forget?"

"_Those people are fools, Delete. They say that you should forgive, yet they also say that you should 'treat others the way you want to be treated'. And if someone is unkind to you, your only choice is to be unkind back with this rule. And some wonder why some live in a world with no peace. The fools have given us a double choice in life; something that could rip us in two if it ever got the chance to haunt your mind_."

"Oh…" Delete looked like he had second thoughts about the 'forgive and forget' policy. Then, thinking of something else that was on his mind, he asked, "But, why do I have to kill them to take back my content? I'm sorry, I just don't understand…"

"_You must kill them, Delete, because they were cruel to you. All that oppose the individuals weaker than them are asking for death—they deserve to die, Delete. And who is going to carry out that duty? Not their friends, and not their family, and certainly not the witnesses; they show no sympathy for the fallen. The fate of that person or thing lies in the hands of the opposed, and if the opposed one does not carry out this duty, that person—that opposer—will go on to break the spirits of many others; make them suffer just like they did with the innocent who chose to let go. That one innocent could've made a difference, but he chose the wrong path. Now others are suffering because that one opposing individual wasn't destroyed at first fall_."

"Suffering…" Delete muttered this word as he looked down at the cold floor of the room he was in. He then looked up and said, "But…why are you telling me this? Who are you? What are you? Please tell me; I need to know…"

"_Who am I? Why am I telling you this? You notice, Delete, that I would not tell you these things without a reason, and I have more than a good reason for you to do this. After what I told you about the stronger making others suffer, you do notice that they deserve death…they all deserve death…_"

Delete shuddered at the word 'death' as the voice continued, "_I found this out as soon as I myself started to suffer…I realized that anyone who had made me suffer deserved death. Thus, I headed out to kill the one individual who had made me suffer, but I ended up dying myself; he had killed me before I could find out for sure that he was dead. It was a sudden attack, too…_" It paused for a while, and all fell still, until it continued, "_I found this out long ago, but after I met my fate, I could no longer carry out the plan I had pieced together…thus, I decided to find someone who would understand what I meant, follow my plan without a thought about it, and explain why they deserve to die_."

"So you chose me," Delete said, sure of himself, placing his hand on his chest.

"_Precisely. Now you can continue where I left off…and at long last, the individuals who had suffered shall suffer no more…the opposing will all die…their blood will be used to paint the mural of victory…and all of cyberspace will rejoice…_"

"But…you never told me who you are," Delete said, puzzled. "How can I trust you if I don't know who you are?"

The voice laughed, then said, "_Who I am is not important anymore; it is what I am. And I am merely a figment of your mind, having entered it in the only way possible. I am a voice from the world of the spirits, merely explaining to you that the opposing deserve to die. You, my friend, have been chosen to continue where I left off…I remember you…_" His voice suddenly became slightly angered as he said, his tone now raspy and sounding very much like a sick snake's, "_I remember you so well…_"

Delete began to feel uneasy at this remark; that and the voice tone he used on the last sentence. He sighed deeply, thinking over what the voice had said, about killing off the opposing, and finally muttered, "I don't think I can do that…"

"_Of course you can…remember what happened with Buzz just a few moments ago? You weren't too happy with that, were you?_"

Delete shook his head. "No, I wasn't…" His gentle side then took its place as he took a deep breath, then continued, "But Buzz is my brother. As much as I disliked the way he shouted at me like that, I can't kill him. It just wouldn't be the right thing to do…killing off your own blood relative…it's too cold-blooded, I'm sorry…"

He then shuddered, for at this remark, he felt himself suddenly go cold. He drew his arms around his chest for warmth, his teeth nearly chattering…it was like a blast of cold ice had just spread its way through his innards, freezing them. He coughed, and closed his eyes tightly, shaking like a tiny dog out in the cold…

After a few moments, the feeling passed, almost instantly. He opened his eyes, then withdrew his arms from his chest, wondering why he had felt that sensation so suddenly. Shaking his head to get the aftershock past, he said, confused, "What in cyberspace—"

"_You have no need to worry about that_," he heard the cold voice say again. "_It was merely an action taking place within you; telling you its disagreement of your decision. It's somewhat like that guilt feeling you get, only this is different, much different, in fact…_"

Delete was about to open his mouth to say something in return, when he suddenly realized that the voice was no longer coming from inside his head; in fact, it seemed like it was now coming somewhere from his throat. Starting to panic, he grabbed at his throat with one of his hands, then said, "Wait a minute…what are you doing? I thought that you were—"

"_I am a thought, yes, that is partly true_," the voice answered; it now sounded like it was somewhere near his shoulders. "_But I am so much more than just a thought. You see, I used to be someone…someone once living, until that day I met my fate. I needed someone who would agree with me about my theory that all the opposing shall die_." It now sounded somewhere between his chest and his neck. "_You don't want to kill off one of your opposers, thus you disagree. But I have high hopes for you, Delete. I didn't come this far only to back down. I now realize that the only way for you to truly understand my theory is for you to experience what it is like to kill the opposing physically._" It was now in the middle of his chest, right over his central circuitry area, or the heart, in anatomy terms. "_Which means I shall have to take control. I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice_."

Delete, suddenly realizing what he was planning on doing, shouted "WAI—" but was cut short by the feeling of his chest being ripped apart as the spiritual voice dug deep into his circuitry. He gasped as his words were shorted out, then shrieked in pain, throwing both of his hands over his chest, the tears leaking through his eyes. He then threw himself down on the ground, writhing, jolting, and kicking around, trying to shake the horrible feeling from his chest. 

In a few moments it was all over. Delete now lay on the floor in the middle of the room, cold sweat dripping down the sides of his head and his breathing coming in short gasps. One of his hands still lay over his chest; the other was on the floor, every now and then giving a sharp twitch. His eyes were wide open, as if he had just come out of a shock state.

"_Now_," the cold voice said, coming from deep within his circuitry, "_Do you meet my agreement for sure this time_?"

Delete sat up, still panting heavily, then finally said, his voice bland and emotionless, the blank stare never leaving his face, "Yes…"

"_Perfect_," the voice said, now sounding more menacing than it had before. Delete's hand then left his chest, as he slowly got to his feet, his bright white eyes starting to turn a blood red color. He shook his head once or twice, then stood perfectly still, like a stone statue.

"_And now, my little marionette,_" the voice continued, in the same menacing tone_, "It's time to DANCE…_" 


	2. Part II

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part II

Delete's eyes had turned completely blood red, and 'his' possession of him had taken full impact as soon as Buzz once again came through the door, having been disturbed by the noise made in there during Delete's jolting around. Still a bit peeved at Delete, he asked, crossing his arms, "Alright, Delete, what was going on in here?"

Now that Delete's memories of the events that brought him happiness, and personality at that, were both blocked out due to the possession, it was 'his' turn to control Delete's body and actions. In a voice that was cold, emotionless, and bland, Delete replied, "Nothing had happened that you would take concern in, Buzz. I was merely talking to myself about suffering, and now I feel quite better, thank you."

Buzz, looking a bit puzzled, cocked his eyebrow, then said, "Well, okay…if it wasn't anything serious…"

"Trust me, it wasn't."

Buzz nodded, then slowly walked out of the room, wondering why Delete's voice had sounded so lifeless; so cold. Delete sighed, then murmured, his face breaking out into an evil grin, "Tonight…tonight is when I begin where I had left off. Oh, Buzz, if only you knew…" He then broke out into a cold, heartless laugh as he thought of this…

As soon as night fell to the Northern Frontier, Delete, who had been sitting still as a statue on the bed ever since the spiritual thought had taken control of his body, never blinking, his face never changing from its cold stare, finally arose from the bed at which he sat. Buzz hadn't come into the room yet; he was in the room opposite him. This proved to be a better advantage for Delete; he was able to walk out of the room and down the hall without much trouble. 

He didn't stop walking until he reached the main control room. Looking around with great caution, he finally nodded, then slowly and silently walked into the room. He stopped in front of the supply closet, then slowly unlocked it and pulled the door open. He then walked inside and started to dig through the useless junk that they had saved from previous adventures, every now and then looking toward the doorway, in case someone came into the control room and saw the door open, and went over to investigate.

After piecing through several piles of items, he cursed under his breath, then snapped his fingers in frustration. He then sighed, walked out of the closet, slowly closed the door, and was about to go back to search in the other room when he suddenly remembered something…Hacker always kept a razor sharp knife in his room, for future uses. 

Grinning once more at the thought of this, he quickly bolted out of the main control room and down the hallway, until he reached the room at the end. He stared up at it for quite some time; this was Hacker's room, the one place where he could actually get some peace and quiet. 

Finally, he took a deep breath, then slowly pushed open the door, being careful not to let it creak, for the slightest noise, he knew, would disturb him from his sleep, and he didn't want that to happen…if it did, the entire plot would be ruined. 

As soon as the door was halfway open, he squeezed through it, then slowly walked into the room, avoiding anything that might make any sort of noise when he struck it whatsoever. He finally stopped near a closet at the of the room, then frowned; the door was locked, he had just remembered, in case anyone had tried to steal it. Hacker had hidden the key somewhere in the room…he then broke out into that same menacing grin again, for, being one of Hacker's henchmen, he knew exactly where that key was.

Tearing himself away from the locked closet, he looked towards the area where the table was located, then slowly walked towards it, like a snake when it spots its prey. Within a few moments of this, he looked under the table, nodded, then dropped down on his stomach and started to inch his way across the floor under the table, like a soldier in No Man's Land. 

About halfway under he stopped, then quietly turned over on his back. His face broke out into yet another menacing grin; for, sure enough, there was the one thing that would lead him in his quest to kill the opposing. For a silver key, slightly moldy, was strapped under the table with some heavy-duty tape.

It didn't take Delete much trouble to remove the tape—being a robot—and retrieve the key from its place. Putting the key between his teeth, he slowly slid out from under the table, then pulled himself up and walked back over to the closet. He removed it from his teeth, placed the key in its lock, and slowly twisted it to the left, knowing that this was what Hacker had always done when unlocking it before. Sure enough, the door clicked and swung open, and Delete, turning around to make sure that his boss was still asleep, slowly entered it. 

He looked through several items before he finally saw the glint of something that looked like silver from the corner of his eye. Turning around, he finally saw it— the glinting, pure silver, razor sharp blade of the knife that both of them were forbidden to touch. It was odd that it would be qualified as a knife, the blade alone was at least ten inches in length. 

Still grinning menacingly, he approached the blade, then, reaching up, slowly removed it from the hooks on which it rested. He then slowly ran his hand down its blade; it was smooth, cold, and sharp…he enjoyed the feel of this greatly; he knew that soon, it would be stained with the blood of those who had opposed him. He then turned towards the light and stared at his reflection in the blade…it no longer held the look of the gentle, timid robot that all of them used to know. It held the look of a cold-blooded killer, one that had been suffering too long and was finally about to take charge. 

He sighed in content, then walked out of the closet, closing the door with his foot as he left, and was just about to leave the room to start his mission when his gaze met the body of Hacker, now asleep. Delete looked down at the glinting knife, then at his sleeping boss, suddenly having the great urge to stab him in his sleep, and eliminate him, one of his opposers, forever. 

Staring at Hacker, Delete felt his hands grip the handle of the knife even tighter than they had before. He felt sweat drip down his face, then he shook his head to get the feeling past him, knowing that Hacker would die as well...but he had other things to take care of first. But then again, it was Hacker who had been the rudest towards him…it wouldn't hurt to kill him now, he decided. 

Heaving a deep sigh once more, he slowly approached Hacker, then, as soon as he was above him, raised the knife over his head, his hands shaking as he gripped the blade. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, sweat starting to drip down his face again…

_Aaaaaugh! What's wrong with me!? _Delete thought to himself. _I want to kill him…I know I want to kill him…but I just can't manage to do it! But why?! Maybe the gentle side is still there? Maybe it wasn't completely blocked out? But I know I blocked it out! I _know_ that I blocked it out! Come on…stab him…stab him while you still have the chance…_

"Delete!"

Delete froze, then quickly lowered the knife and hid it behind his back as he turned to face Buzz, who was out of the room and standing in the doorway, tapping his foot and not looking at all pleased. Buzz continued, in an annoyed tone, "What do you think you're doin' in Hacker's room? You know darned well that we're not supposed to go in here!" He then looked over in the direction of the closet and said, "And what's 'da key to 'da closet doin' on 'da floor?"

Delete cringed as Buzz said this. His eyes darted towards the area near the closet and, sure enough, the key was on the floor, about a yard or so away from the closet's door. He felt more sweat trickle down the side of his head again as he tried to think up a good excuse…Buzz would surely know that he had stolen the key if he told the truth, which he didn't want to do in the first place…

"Uh, oh, that!" he said after a few moments, a tone of nervousness in his voice. He shook his head again, then said, "Well, I think that the boss just misplaced the key. You know how that happens once in a while…"

"I've never seen him misplace 'da key before," Buzz replied, sounding a bit confused.

"Well, then again, we've never seen where he hid the key either," Delete replied.

Buzz thought about this for a moment, then said, "True…" He then glanced at Delete again. "Delete…why are your hands behind your back? It looks like you're hiding something…"

"I just wanted them there, okay?" Delete snapped.

Buzz's eyes grew wide; he didn't expect Delete to ever snap at him, but he merely shook his head to get it off, then said, "Just leave 'da room, okay? If Hacker wakes up and sees you 'dere, he'll whip you good."

"Okay!" Delete replied impatiently, his eyes narrowing.

Buzz glared at him warningly, then left the doorway and went down the hall towards the room that Delete had been in earlier. Delete narrowed his eyes, then pulled the knife out from behind his back and stared at the blade again. He then looked back up towards the doorway and murmured, "Buzz, if only you knew…if only you knew what I have planned for you…you and all the others who have opposed me…"

All was silent in the Grim Wreaker a few hours later…all except for Delete, who had slunk out of Hacker's room—deciding not to kill him at the time being—and was inching his way down the hall, his back pressed against the doorless wall of the ship. Every now and then he stopped dead from the sound of Buzz's sleeping in their room, but continued to move along, knowing that Buzz was usually a heavy sleeper. 

He didn't stop this form of sneakiness until he came to his destination—the room adjacent to the wall he was pressed up against; that and the control room. It was the room, he knew, where the cyber-scooter was kept. Hacker had used it many times in past events, but now, in the present, it was to be used for something more. 

Delete, knowing that this particular door was always unlocked, walked across the hallway and shoved it open without much trouble, then walked into the shadowed room. Looking over the edge, he saw, sure enough, hidden in the shadows, the cyber-scooter, right near the launch area where it was always stationed. They could find it better that way. 

Not wanting to arouse anyone, he refused the aid of the lights and leapt over the edge of the high rail. This was a foolish thing to do for a human, but for a robot it was no trouble; he landed gracefully at the bottom, with only a loud _CLANG_ ensuing through the room; not a yelp of pain was to be heard. 

He dusted himself off, then approached the cyber-scooter and easily mounted it. He then pressed the ignition button, and the scooter lifted itself up, hovering about a foot from the ground. He then drove it towards the launch opening, stopped, then pressed a button on the panel adjacent to him. The large door in front of him slid open partway; this was enough for him to slip out—along with the scooter—and head towards his first destination…

Except for the occasional sound of a horse whinnying, there was no sound to be heard in Sensible Flats. Both Judge Trudy and Sheriff Judy had checked out for the night, leaving the town entirely unprotected…it would've been a perfect time for Hacker to strike, if Delete wasn't the one to be striking. He wanted to kill off the opposing…but the urge for a test run was even greater, and with this new power, he knew that he couldn't deny his whims. 

He twisted his hands on the knife handle, staring out at the empty streets of the old-west style area almost hungrily. No one was there just yet, but one move from something…just one move…and he would know that his first target was found. He stared at the knife again, looking at his reflection, then back out at the empty streets…just in time to see a figure walk out of one of the buildings nearby.

His face yet again broke out into that menacing, lifeless grin. Raising the knife, he slowly slunk out of the alley and started toward the figure. The figure didn't know; he was too busy heading back toward his household at the other end of town, thinking of how nice a night it was. He wouldn't have been so happy if he actually knew what was coming toward him.

Delete followed the man until he stopped near an alleyway, right near the Sheriff's office. Narrowing his eyes in determination, he slowly continued to slink over to the man, who was now checking his watch and looking up at the night sky, illuminated by the stars. He sighed with content, then was just about to start walking again when he heard a cold voice say:

"_Don't move_."

The man froze in his tracks; he wasn't sure whether to be confused or frightened. He heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him over the dusty ground, then they stopped. The voice came again; it sounded now like it was right behind him.

"That's better. You know very well what I'm about to do now, don't you, my friend?"

The man felt as if he was frozen all over, but managed to nod his head. He heard the figure scoff, then command, "Turn around. I'm starting to think that the idea of talking to you behind your back is ridiculous."

Worried that it was some kind of officer, the man turned around and saw the dark shape of an android, some parts of it illuminated a light teal from the lights across the road. The eyes were easy to spot; they were a blazing red, glowing brightly in the darkness and bathing part of its face in a blood red glow. It was a bit tall, about the size of an eleven-year-old child, he estimated. Although he was unsure of what this was exactly, he thought that he knew those characteristics from somewhere…or sometime…in the past…

"I am on a mission," the robot said, "to kill off the opposing. I know that the opposing are nothing more than splotches of evil in this land, and that those splotches of evil must be wiped off for good. The cleaner is certainly not to let go…the only cleaner to get rid of those vile splotches are the ones who have been opposed." He clenched his golden-yellow hand into a fist as he continued, "The fallen have the key to a perfect world…a world with no opposers. I am one of those fallen souls…and my job now…is to destroy."

The man opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it, for he noticed that the robot's eyes seemed to be blazing an even brighter red than before. He lowered his head toward the knife clutched tightly in his hand, his gaze never leaving the man, then muttered, in an evil, raspy tone: "_Tsal sti dellot sah lleb eht_."

The man was just about to try and translate what he had said when the robot, with agile force, leapt at him. He now saw the glinting blade of the dagger, clutched tightly in the robot's hand still in midair, and gasped, now fully understanding what was about to happen to him. 

He turned around and tried to run, but it was too late. He felt the sickening _SCRAK_ of his spine as the knife sliced easily through it, followed by a sharp jolt of pain. Screaming loudly as blood began spurting out in large quantities from the wound, he collapsed on the ground, flailing his limbs around in a panic. He knew that he was dead for sure; there was no doubt about that.

In his last moments of life, he looked up just in time to find out that the robot wasn't finished. He raised up the dagger again, then brought it down straight into his chest. The man gurgled as blood started to gush out of his mouth; his world started to go black as he finally realized who it was that had killed him…

"The Hacker…you work for the Hacker…" He said weakly, right before his eyes rolled back, and his world went black forever more. 

Delete, now knowing that his victim was dead for sure, grinned evilly; then his gaze traveled down his arm to meet the knife, still lodged in the man's chest. He stood there for a while, gazing at the now blood-splattered blade, then finally clenched his teeth and forced the knife downward with great speed. The blade sliced through the man's metal exterior, leaving a huge open gash straight down the middle, from the chest to the stomach. More blood poured out of the wound, now made even larger by Delete's action. 

Standing there, Delete removed the blade from the man's now sliced innards and stared, just stared, down at his slashed victim for a while. A cold gust of wind blew from the direction he was facing in, giving the feeling of ice to his face. He felt a new kind of warmth in this now, one that he had never felt before. It was enjoyable to him, in a way…but there was something missing. 

He then glanced down at the bleeding man, and knelt down next to him. A pool of dark blood was starting to form underneath him; it was still trickling from the large gash and staining the dust on which he lay. Reaching out slowly, he dipped his fingers in the warm, wet, sticky substance, then lifted his hand up. He then looked down at it…it would've been a gruesome sight for anyone not mentally disturbed; the blood was starting to run down from his fingers and make small rivers on his palm. 

He stared at this for a while, then slowly reached his hand towards his mouth, then placed his tongue to his bloody palm. The taste of salt and bitterness stung it, but he didn't seem to mind this. Pausing for a moment, he continued to lick the blood off of his hand; the look on his face suggested that he was enjoying every moment the bright red substance touched his tongue. 

After the blood was completely clean from his hand, he dipped his fingers in the substance yet again, then closed his eyes and, without stopping to pause, swiped the once again bloody hand across his closed eyelids. It made a long red mark over the area, and dripped down onto his cheeks, leaving long red rivers, as if he had been crying tears of blood. He opened them again, then threw his head up towards the night sky, sighing with content. He had never known that killing people would bring him such happiness.

This moment was broken when he heard the sound of footsteps from the building near him. Knowing that it was probably someone who had heard the man's scream, he quickly gripped the blade tighter in his hand and bolted behind a nearby dumpster, just as Judge Trudy and Sheriff Judy, sure enough, came out to the entrance of the alleyway. They both gasped when they saw the brutally murdered figure on the ground.

"Oh my God…Trudy, what in cyberspace happened here!" he heard Judy gasp.

"I can't pinpoint for sure, Sis," Trudy replied. "But judging by the way he's cut, it wasn't suicide, nor an accident of any kind. If I could take a guess, I'd say that it was a murder."

"A murder! Trudy, there haven't been any murders around this area for eons!"

"I know. Which means that there's someone who's trying to return that fear to the people of Sensible Flats. If that happens, we'll be close to becoming a Ghost Town yet again."

"You don't think that this was Hacker's work, do you?"

Delete looked over the dumpster, taking caution not to make any noise, for fear of catching their attention. Their backs were turned to him; he knew that he could've easily murdered them as he had the man that they were gaping at. He dared not, however; if he did, he would surely arouse suspicion. He knew that they also carried revolvers; thus he just merely continued to listen to their private conversation:

"No, Judy. Hacker would never try and murder people just to take over a cybersite. Steal the town's water, and cause chaos, maybe, but never murder. This was someone much worse; someone whom we know not the name of."

The name is Delete, Delete thought to himself from behind the dumpster. _You won't know. You'll never know. Insolent fools…_

"We're going to need to report this," Judy told her sister. "Although we don't know the murderer's name, the next victim is sure to live longer to inform us."

Not when I'm handling the blade, Delete thought again, breaking out into that menacing grin of his once more. If they didn't know who the murderer was, they would never be able to find him unless they found proof that he was the one responsible for the death. And, since there were so many people in Sensible Flats, any one of them could be a suspect. Any one of them but him…

"We have to get this out, Trudy," Judy repeated, "And we have to inform them at once. Lives are at stake here, and we don't want any more of them taken."

Trudy nodded gravely, staring down at the man again. "We can't let this happen any more," she agreed, "If another life is taken from here, we're finished for good."

They then bowed their heads, as if they were saying a silent prayer for the lifeless corpse that lay below them, then slowly lifted him up in their arms and soberly carried him away. Delete waited until they had vanished before coming out from behind the dumpster, a serious and angry expression on his blood-streaked face. He had wanted more than anything to kill them, but he didn't…he couldn't…and now they were setting out to report the cases of murdering to all of Sensible Flats, where his next victim was planning to be. 

Never mind that, a voice that seemed to come from inside of him said. _They'll never suspect you, and any witnesses of any kind will be killed at the scene too. No one will ever know, as long as you follow according to plan._

He gravely nodded at this, then took a deep breath and muttered to himself, "A life has been taken, and for that I am glad. But I need some way to keep count of how many I kill…so that if I am caught, I can die an honorable death…"

He then stared down at his wrist, visible from beneath his sleeve. His gaze traveled to the knife, still bloody and clutched in his other hand, now violently shaking for some odd reason. His gaze then traveled back to his wrist, then it went back to the knife.

Go on… The voice urged. _Do it…_

Delete took a deep breath, then slowly touched the knife at the top of his wrist. Then, closing his eyes tightly, he quickly slashed it across, inflicting a small cut in it. He let out a small yelp of pain, sounding like a wounded or frightened puppy, then dropped the knife and clutched his wrist, his breath coming in short, pained gasps. 

The feeling quickly passed, though, and he slowly released his grip from his wrist, which was now beginning to ooze blood. A drop of the black, shining substance ran off of it and made its place on the ground, with a small _plip_ sound, followed by another of the same action. 

Sighing and rubbing his wrist, he then stared at it for the third time, and once again reached his hand toward his mouth and licked the blood off. The bitter taste filled his mouth yet again, but this time it actually tasted nice. He continued to keep his tongue on it, soaking up whatever blood came from the wound.

After this passed, he stared down at his chest, then quickly let out a gasp of fright—for there, splattered all over his chest and sleeves, was the blood of the man that he had killed. This would surely arouse suspicion—especially around Buzz or Hacker…he knew that whenever someone had blood over his shirt in a splatter pattern that was perfectly visible to the human eye, it would mean, no doubt, that that person had killed someone.

He clawed at his shirt, trying desperately to somehow get it off, but it was no use; the blood stains remained as visible and horrific as always. He continued to try, however, almost tearing his chest apart in the process. When he saw that the stains weren't going to come off, he cursed under his breath again, grinding one of his feet in the dust. If Buzz or Hacker saw him with the stains, he would never be able to come up with a good explanation as to how they got there—he would be forced to tell the truth; that he was the one who had killed the man. And of course it would be all over the news…

He then glanced down at the bloody knife in his hand. Cocking his head to one side, he suddenly realized something…but he wasn't completely sure. This was fixed, however, as soon as he ran his fingers along the edge of the blade, pressing a bit harder onto its strongest points. He then removed his hand and stared at it. No blood had formed on his fingers, nor had there been any cuts. He let out an angered noise, for he now knew that in cutting the man open, he had dulled the blade to the point where it was almost completely harmless, unless he stabbed hard enough. 

He was about to throw it to the ground when a light bulb suddenly clicked on inside his head. Forgetting all about the blood stains on his chest, he walked silently out of the alleyway that he had entered and approached the cyber-scooter, which had been parked out near one of the buildings adjacent to the one that Judge Trudy and Sheriff Judy had come out of, the Sheriff's Office (he only had to stalk the man a short distance before he had told him to stop). Mounting it quickly, he revved it up and left Sensible Flats, heading toward the city of Poddleville…

As he approached Poddleville, he had many thoughts on his now possessed mind. Thoughts on how he had killed that man; thoughts on how his plan was going so well; thoughts on doing all of this and not being ruled down as a suspect. None of these troubled him; he knew soon enough that he would figure them out in a snap. First, he needed to perform a step that wasn't meant to be part of the plot he had to destroy the opposing.

He drove through the dark, empty, perfectly ordered streets, until he finally reached his destination: The Cyberspace Museum of Natural History. It was a large gray building that looked like any other museum he might've encountered, except that this one held the key to his plan…an unstoppable power was inside that museum; something that would help him a great deal in his mission of death. 

Parking in front of the large stone steps, he dismounted the cyber-scooter, then, still clutching the dagger tightly in his now clammy hand, started to make his way up. It was a long climb, he estimated about ten or twelve feet in elevation, but he managed to make it to the door without having to clutch a stitch in his side. He reached out his hand and shoved on the door.

To his surprise, the door swung open without much trouble, and he stepped inside cautiously, glancing around. Any museum that didn't have a locked door probably had another set up for the thieves who tried to break into here, and he didn't want to fall victim to it.

He was about two or three yards into the museum when he suddenly heard a voice say, "Hey, you! No trespassers!"

Delete, surprised and a bit peeved, quickly whipped around just in time to see a member of the Poddleville police standing near the doors. He had his hands on his hips, and a less than pleasant warning glare was plastered on his face. Slowly removing his hand from one of his hips, he made a hand sign to Delete and said, "I want you to come here, sir. You're under arrest for the breaking and entering of a public museum!"

Delete merely stood there, returning the glare to the museum guard, his hand still grasped tightly around the knife. The guard had no right to disrupt him or his plan…also, in Delete's possessive trance, it was as if the guard was opposing him in a way…

"Did you hear me?" the guard snapped, getting even more peeved than before. "I said come here!"

Delete's eyes narrowed dangerously; he was even more peeved than the guard was at the moment. The guard was merely doing his job, but to the disturbed and possessed Delete, he was merely another opposer, telling him to scram so he could fall…fall into the ashes of defeat. Well, he wasn't about to let that happen.

An idea then suddenly came into his head. His face breaking out into a grin, he nodded, not wanting to speak, and slowly walked over back toward the doors. The guard smiled, but the glare never left his face. Glancing down at Delete's hand, he saw the bloody knife, still clamped in his hand like a pair of handcuffs around a prisoner's wrist. Knowing that this knife could pose as a danger to the people of Poddleville, he held out his hand and said, "Okay, now, give me the knife."

The angered flash in Delete's blood red eyes never left him, but he continued to grin, as though he was about to have the happiest moment of his life. "Oh, do you want it? Well, if that's what you want from me, I suppose I can give it to you."

The guard smiled and the glare left his eyes. "That's good," he said. "Now, just slowly give me the—AAAAUGH!"

He screamed as Delete raised the knife over his head, then brought it down in one swift blow. It whistled through the air and connected with the guard's neck and, with a loud _SHWINNG_, severed the guard's head from his shoulders. It dropped to the ground with a loud _THUD_, blood starting to leak out of the neck. The body immediately fell next to it, with even more of the horrifying substance leaking out of the other end of the severed area, forming a large pool of it.

Delete, grinning yet again, wiped the blood that had been splattered on his face off, and looked down at the lifeless body. The guard's eyes were still wide open in shock, as was his mouth. Delete reached down and picked up the head with both hands, setting the knife down near the body, then stared at it evilly before dropping it on top of the bleeding body and picking up the knife once more. 

Looking down at his wrist, he knew what he had to do once more. Although the knife was dull from both attacks, he quickly slit his wrist yet again, leaving the two long red cuts beside each other, almost like tally marks. He no longer felt any pain; it had started to actually feel quite pleasant, for some odd reason or another.

He then turned away from the dead guard and started to walk across the main room, every now and then glancing up at the pictures of famous people and things that had helped make cyberspace what it was today. He stopped staring as soon as he left the main room, however, and headed down the hallway to the left, knowing that this was the correct way to turn, even though he had never been here before. It was almost as if an invisible force was giving him directions; telling him which way to turn.

He finally stopped near the end of the hallway and turned towards the right wall. A doorway was there, plain as day, with a golden sign above it; the letters engraved into the gold reading out, plain as day: _Cyberspace weaponry exhibit_. Without even stopping to think, he strode into the room, a look of great confidence and satisfaction plastered over his face. 

He walked across the room slowly, his feet making loud clacking noises on the hard, tiled floor. He stopped in front of a glass case, then frowned; he knew for sure that it was protected by a laser system…the activation pad was on the wall next to it.

Anger and determination still in his eyes, he glanced at the pad, then back down at the knife in his hand, still stained with the old blood of the man and the fresh blood of the museum guard. He then looked back at the activation pad.

An idea suddenly coming into his head, he raised the knife, then plunged it into the activation pad. It short-circuited at once, giving out bright blue sparks and making electrical noises, then it finally died out, the lasers along with it.

Knowing that this was all in the bag now, he cracked his knuckles, then turned towards the display case that he had been keeping his eyes on the moment he had entered the room. It held a large sword within the glass, with a bright silver blade and a golden handle adjourned with silver, diamond shapes. His face was seen reflected in the shining sword, bathed in the light of the security lamp; every now and then it gave off a sharp glint that would've blinded anyone…maybe anyone but him.

Picking up a rather large stray nut that had dropped from the activation pad to the ground, he raised his hand back, then threw it at the glass case that surrounded the sword. It shattered almost instantly, the shards dropping to the floor and breaking into yet even smaller pieces. Ignoring the crunching of the glass under his feet, Delete walked forward, then slowly lifted the beautiful weapon from the velvet pillow on which it rested. 

He looked at his reflection in it for a while, then, with agile force, swung it. The wind whistled as it took through it; then he lowered it, all the time eyeing the silver information plate below the display case with a look of great content:

Blade of Incaligur

Used in the cyberspace war of the 10th eon

Any blade to face it shall fall.

Any person to face it shall die.


	3. Part III

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part III

Although Delete had thought that Buzz had been sleeping as he went out to kill, he was wrong. Instead of sleeping, Buzz was lying on his back on top of the bed, the dimly lit hallway his only source of light, pondering to himself. He no longer felt rage towards Delete, and felt that he should apologize. But he had never apologized to anyone in his life…besides his boss, that is. He could never conjuncture up the words right with anyone else.

But that wasn't the only thing that bothered him. The other thing that he had felt uneasy about was how Delete had reacted when he went into their room, and then after that, when he had seen him in Hacker's room, right next to Hacker, who had been deep in slumber at the time. He had seen that Delete had had something raised over his head…something that shimmered brightly in the light that the doorway gave off. Then, when he had asked why Delete had had his hands behind his back when he confronted him, he had snapped back at him. Buzz had known Delete ever since they had been created, and he knew very well that Delete would never snap at him like that. It was just odd…that wasn't the Delete he knew…

The second thing that worried him about Delete was his voice. All the time that he had known Delete, he had known that Delete always had a perky spunk to his voice, no matter what happened—even in his times of greatest misery, he had always sounded full of perk, of spunk. And his voice when he had spoken to him…it had sounded so cold, so lifeless…like someone of incredible evil. He also thought that he had heard that tone of voice before, but no, that was impossible…

He sighed, then got up from the bed; he couldn't sleep peacefully with all these thoughts haunting his mind…maybe if he got a donut from the box he kept in the control room, he would be able to forget about this for a while. Stretching, he walked out of the room he was in and down the hallway, towards the main control room. His footsteps echoed throughout the empty hall, but he didn't seem to care; Hacker was a heavy sleeper.

As soon as he entered the control room, he walked over to one of the file cabinets, opened it, and, glancing around cautiously, removed a half-empty box of donuts from between the thick collections of files. He always kept this box hidden; he knew that Delete liked donuts as much as he did, and would often steal. 

He went over to the table, then tossed the box up on the telephone book he always sat on when he was there. He then hoisted himself up onto the book, tossing the box over his shoulder and onto the table as he did so, and turned around, at the time reaching into the box and pulling out a sugar-sprinkled pastry. He was about to eat it when he heard the sound of doors sliding open. He stopped, the donut halfway to his mouth, and listened. 

He heard the sound of the doors closing again; he knew that it must've been the door in the side—the one with the sliding platform…it was followed by footsteps. Greatly puzzled, the stubby robot turned his head toward the direction the footsteps had come from. He saw nothing at the moment, but he knew that the marauder—whoever it was—was heading for the control room. Without pausing, he dropped the donut onto the table and dived under it as the figure's shadow came over the wall. It then entered; Buzz could tell for sure that it was Delete, no other robot had those distinct features. 

But something about him was entirely different…Buzz could tell. For one thing, his eyes were blood red and no longer held their gentle look; they had the look of someone that had seen too much and was fighting against it in a fit of rage. The second thing was more horrifying…there was a brown substance set all over his shirt and sleeves in a distinct splatter pattern. There could be another possible explanation for this, but by Buzz's thought it looked horribly like dry blood. 

Looking closer, he saw that Delete now had something in his hand…the hand wasn't in Buzz's direction, but he could just make out the glint of a silver blade. He wondered what that was about…the blade came from a knife of some sort, no doubt, but Delete would never be caught carrying such a weapon; he was too timid…

He tried his best to remain quiet as Delete looked around, a highly cautious look on his face, then turned his head toward the table…straight in the direction where Buzz was. Buzz held his breath, his heart racing furiously, but he soon found that Delete wasn't staring at him, but _past_ him. He didn't want to find out what he was staring at; he still needed to continue to make himself unnoticed…although this was a silly thing to do in front of his younger sibling, he agreed, it was just somehow too risky to confront him when he had seen the glimpse of a blade in his hand.

He continued to watch as Delete stared ahead, his eyes unblinking, like he had seen deep into the waters of the dead, then finally turned his head toward the hallway and started to walk down it, toward the room that they both shared. Buzz finally exhaled, relieved that Delete hadn't seen him, and climbed out from under the table.

He knew now that something was definitely wrong with Delete; what other reason could there be for a blade—which he guessed was Hacker's, hence the key on the floor when he had confronted Delete in his room—to be in his hand. He had wondered what the brown substance was for, though…he cringed, for he now knew that the only way he would find out what was happening with him was to question him; confront him face to face. Even though he knew that Delete would never hurt him, he was still a bit afraid by the thought of this.

Taking a deep breath, he hoisted himself up, then trotted over towards the hallway that Delete had entered, then entered the room that he had walked into. He now found him sitting on the bed, his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. His eyes had a bored expression to them, and every now and then his wrist twitched ever so lightly. Buzz, his face in a half-frightened, half-determined expression, slowly approached him. 

Delete made no movement whatsoever as Buzz slowly got up on the bed beside him. He toyed around with his hands for a while, then finally took a deep breath and said, trying his best to sound as serious as possible, "Okay, Delete, you have some explaining to do. What exactly were you doing outside 'da Grim Wreaker at—oh, what time—_one in 'da morning_!?"

Delete remained silent, staring straight ahead for a few moments, then finally replied, never looking at Buzz, "I was out doing what I was meant to do. I was on a mission, Buzz…a mission that your feeble mind would never understand."

Buzz was greatly surprised, not to mention a bit puzzled. Delete had never used words in that form of a sentence before—let alone say something meaningful. In the past events that had happened to them, Delete had always had trouble pronouncing even the simplest large words—once he had even said "commun-di-catin'" instead of the word "communicating". He didn't even know that Delete had known what the word "feeble" meant…but he decided to continue his questioning. 

"What I'm trying to say is…Delete…lately you've been acting a bit strange. I mean, really…the key on 'da floor, the shock I got when I found you in 'da boss's room…the color change in your eyes…not to mention 'da blade I saw clutched in your—" He stopped dead; this wasn't something that Delete was supposed to know that he knew.

Delete turned his head towards him, the dead gaze never leaving his face. "Buzz, this mission requires much preparation. I was in the boss's room only to retrieve the dagger he kept in his closet."

"But Delete, you _know_ 'dat we're both forbidden to touch 'dat thing."

"I know that very well, Buzz," Delete replied. "I was merely using the dagger as one of my devices. I was thinking that if I sold it, I would be able to help the boss a great deal by getting an even more powerful weapon that he could use in defeating those meddling kids. Thus, I went to cybersite Nowhere and traded. It was that simple."

Buzz was a bit confused at this. He didn't remember anything from any place called 'Nowhere'…he thought that he had been there after the Grim Wreaker crashed that one time, but now he couldn't remember anything. So how did Delete? He had been hit on the head, as had Buzz…

"So…where is it?"

Delete cocked his eyebrow, looking as if he didn't have a clue what Buzz was talking about. "What?"

"You know, 'da weapon 'dat you sold 'da dagger for."

Delete shot a cold glare at his older brother, then replied, simply, "The weapon is meant for Hacker's eyes only. Just as we were forbidden to touch the dagger, you are forbidden to touch the weapon."

Buzz blinked in confusion; he didn't know what to make out of this. He wanted to say something about why Delete touched the dagger in the first place if they weren't supposed to touch it ever, but all that escaped his lips was a simple, "Okay."

Delete smiled, a smile very much unlike his own; it looked evil, cold, heartless, and menacing all at the same time, glad that Buzz believed him and didn't suspect him. But this was broken at once when Buzz turned his gaze down towards Delete's shirt, then said, pointing at the blood stains, "Could you also explain to me what in cyberspace '_dat_ is?"

At these words, Delete froze. He looked down toward his shirt, once again remembering the blood stains from his last two killings, and muttered something under his breath, sounding greatly angered. He then turned his gaze toward Buzz and said, quickly making up the first excuse that managed to come into his mind: "It's merely dried mud."

Now it was Buzz's turn to cock his eyebrow. "Dried mud?"

Delete nodded. "Yes. You won't believe how muddy that place is."

He then held his breath, for Buzz looked like he wasn't ready to believe this. Buzz looked at him a moment, a look of great puzzlement on his face, then said, "Well, I know you're not the type to lie to me. I'll believe your story for 'da moment, but if 'dis continues, I'm going to start to suspect that you're starting to lie. You can't sell things at 'dat place so many times 'dat you come back with dried mud on your shoit every blasted day."

"I hear your every word, Buzz."

Buzz managed a weak smile, although he was still a bit uneasy. "Good," he said. "In the meanwhile, I'm going to sleep…I suggest that you do the same."

"If that's what you want, Buzz, I'll follow through."

Buzz nodded, then made his way over to his side of the bed and, throwing himself down, fell asleep in a heartbeat, now free of the thoughts that had been haunting his mind for hours. Delete followed suite, but had more trouble than Buzz, for he still had thoughts of who his next victims were going to be. They had to be ones that had opposed him, of course…but who should he target next? He couldn't choose Buzz or Hacker…if he killed one of them, the other, if fully functional, would surely notice. Besides, he wanted to save the best for last…or, in his case, the worst for last. 

He closed his eyes, still deep in thought, for quite a few hours; then again, he never did seem to know what time it was. He didn't know of anyone that he could target, unless he decided to come after those pesky earth kids and their annoying robotic bird…but they weren't easy targets at the time. The kids were on earth nearly all the time, except when danger came into cyberspace, and Digit was under the watchful eyes of Motherboard and Dr. Marbles, and they were almost always alert, with Motherboard being the supreme ruler of cyberspace and all…

The spirit had already taken care of the major steps in his plan—possessing Delete and killing two innocents, who were merely standing there or doing their job—but he wanted to destroy another one who had opposed him, and quite badly. But he couldn't think of anyone besides the earth kids and Digit…he had made sure that Delete still remembered Hacker and Buzz, and every cruel act that they had done to him in the past, but they were ruled out for the moment; he was going to kill them later. That left very little left…but he wanted to kill again, so badly…

His thoughts then took him back to the incident…the Cy Clone copy coming after him, chasing him…trying to return him to a putrid string of DNA, nothing more than a speck of life in a body made improperly for cloning. Actually, that would've been better for him, and none of the past events that Delete had witnessed would've happened, but they had, and there was no reversing them now…they were scarred in his mind forever, like some kind of horrible nightmare…

Delete's eyes then popped open, and he arose from the bed. Obviously the controlling soul had remembered something from his past; something that had happened when he was still living. The name of this man formed in the controlled robot's throat and escaped from his lips, in a dreaded, raspy whisper:

"_Cy Clone_…"

The cowboy-style clone catcher walked down the streets of R-Fair City, looking at the bright lights and recollecting the memories that he had from here. He still remembered that one day…when the Delete clones broke loose, and he and a young boy by the name of "Matt" had helped him in his quest to capture them and to sooner or later end up returning them to Delete. But he couldn't shake a particular thought from his mind, even after all those weeks…he somehow felt that not all the clones had been captured. He had thought it many times, but he had always shaken it off after a few moments. He knew that all of the clones had been captured…although he and Matt had found it quite peculiar to find one of his clones still on the roller coaster when they had brought it down to collect the remaining Cy Clone copies…

He stopped in front of this roller coaster, staring up at the arches that allowed its riders to kiss the binary coded sky of cyberspace. That roller coaster was somehow a kind of nice landmark for him, yet something inside him seemed to twitch every time he looked at the first arch. He didn't know exactly why or how, yet he had continued to ignore it for many weeks now.

He had been in R-Fair City at this time for a reason—a lot of werewolf clones had gotten loose on the grounds for some odd reason or another and were terrorizing people. He had been summoned to capture them, of course. Now he that he had caught them all, there was no other thing to do but to admire the site's beautiful lighting…either that or leave…but he somehow felt that there was some unfinished business here that he had to take care of. But he didn't know what yet…

Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he turned away from the roller coaster and started walking towards one of the R-Fair City alleyways. He stopped in the shadows of one of the old, abandoned booths—one that had once been used to play a crooked game. That had happened a long time ago, now, but still…he had always wondered why that booth had gone abandoned; he wasn't there at the time…

This brought him to the thoughts of what he had heard on the news—it was an attack, going on in cyberwide television. Sheriff Judy and her sister had reported that they had found a Sensible Flats citizen lying dead—no doubt murdered—right outside their office, then, about an hour after this happened, a member of the Poddleville police had been found in the Cyberspace Museum of Natural History, his severed head lying directly on top of his body; his eyes still wide open in shock. Not to mention that shortly after that, the remaining Poddleville policemen had found a bloody knife wedged into the activation pad that protected the weaponry chamber from thieves. After that, they had found that the blade of Incaligur had been stolen from its case. And it all had happened in one night. Thinking about it brought chills to the spine.

He then heard a noise from behind the booth that disturbed his thoughts; something that sounded like rustling. In a mix of puzzlement and curiosity, he turned his head towards the area where it had come from, listening for it again. But it never did come again; there was silence in the area now. 

Narrowing his eyes, he slowly walked into the dark area behind the booth, and started glancing around. When he found that there was nothing living in the area, he scoffed and had started to turn back to the grounds when he heard the sound again, followed by a loud _THUNK_…it sounded like something had just hit the ground. He whipped around again, glancing in all directions (particularly in the spot where he had heard the noise), but it was too difficult; at this hour everything was bathed in shadows.

He continued to look around the area in puzzlement, trying to figure out who or what it was that had made that sound. Finally, after a few moments, he heard a voice say, behind his back:

"Hello, Mr. Clone."

Startled, he whipped around yet again; and he finally saw something, half hidden in the shadows, its eyes blazing. The other half he could barely make out, but he knew the half in the light anywhere. He remembered that incident…how could he forget it, being a pro clone catcher and all?…

"Delete!" he said, in a tone of both surprise and fright, for Delete hadn't come to R-Fair City since the incident there with the clones; that and the look he had in his eyes…it didn't seem at all pleasant, nor harmless. It held the look of a dangerous murderer…

"I am _not_ Delete, you fool," Delete replied, in a voice quite unlike his own, the clone catcher recognized it. "I merely took over Delete's body…took over his heart…his mind…his entire world." Cy Clone looked a bit confused. Delete narrowed his eyes dangerously, continuing: "You don't remember me, do you? I was one of the many that you tried to imprison…imprison within your horrible device. Well, you couldn't handle all of us at once, so you cloned yourself and sent each one after one of us, in a mission to catch and collect us all." 

He leaned against a nearby storage box as he continued, concealing Incaligur in his other hand, which he hid behind his back, "But you made one fatal mistake. When one of your clones went off after me, I bested him—left him stranded on top of the roller coaster while your other clones sucked up Delete's clones. I escaped with nothing but a blackened hand, which I could use no more."

Cy Clone was taking all of this into his mind. What did Delete mean by he wasn't himself? And what was he talking about when he had mentioned the clone incident? Did he mean that in his clone-catching mission, he had managed to miss one? But how was that possible? He knew that he had caught them all…but somehow he was beginning to have second thoughts…

He stopped thinking as Delete continued, "I sooner or later realized that I was feeling odd things…I was suffering, and I didn't want to take it anymore. I set out to kill Delete, who had been likely to have made me suffer, but it ended up the death of me."

His eyes narrowed even more as he clenched his hand into a fist, then said, "But I wasn't about to give up. Even though I was dead, I wanted to kill off everyone—everyone that had opposed me. Thus, I took over Delete and began to kill. I've already taken the lives of two citizens…" He laughed coldly, then pulled Incaligur out from behind his back as he continued, a wide, devilish grin on his face, "And you are soon to realize why your mistake was fatal, because _you_, Cy Clone, are next on my list."

Before the clone catcher had a chance to react, Delete raised the sword and lunged forward; as he landed on the ground, he allowed the razor-sharp blade to cut through Cy Clone's arm, near the shoulder. He gave out a yell of pain, then clutched his shoulder, breathing through clenched teeth, his eyes closed tightly. Blood began to seep down his arm, and, when he finally managed the courage to examine the wound, he found, to his horror, that the blade had sliced not only through his skin, but halfway through his shoulder-blade as well; it was visible through the sliced muscle and snapped nerves.

He looked up from the wound just in time to see Delete leaping at him again, this time aiming for the chest. His eyes grew wide, and he managed to leap out of the way just in time, landing hard on his frontside, greatly paining his sliced shoulder. There was a loud _THUD_ sound as the blade struck the ground, then a quieter _SHINNNG_ as the blade was removed, he heard, then there was the sound of heavy, angered breathing; Delete—or whoever it was that was controlling him—had obviously had enough. 

Not wanting to get sliced in a fatal area, he quickly scrambled to his feet, just as Delete swung the sword again. It would've severed his head from his shoulders if he hadn't of ducked, but, then again, that wouldn't stop Delete; he knew that Delete wouldn't stop until he was lying dead in the middle of the ground.

He quickly got up and tried to run again, but Delete wasn't about to let his victim escape. He lunged forward, diving low to the ground, then swung the sword again; this time the mark was true. It struck the clone catcher in the ankle full force; it was followed by an incredible surge of pain. Cy Clone turned his head towards his feet just in time to see one of them lying sideways on the ground, bloody and sliced. Delete was standing about three feet from it, breathing heavily and clutching Incaligur, its blade now stained with blood. His gaze then traveled down to his right leg; sure enough, his leg was missing from the ankle down, and a pool of blood was forming from under it.

Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from shouting out in pain, he started to run forward, but his severed ankle wouldn't let him. He fell onto the ground front-first once more; he heard the footsteps of his attacker getting closer…

"There's no hope left, Cy Clone," Delete said, with a tone of great confidence. "You're as good as dead. No one, no thing can save you now."

Looking down at the dust, Cy Clone knew that this was true. But why was it that Delete was coming after him? Why was it that he said that he wasn't himself? These questions continued to echo through his head, as Delete's footsteps grew even closer. He then heard him say, in what he thought was the coldest tone possible:

"Prepare to face the darkness."

He then heard the whooshing noise as Incaligur was brought into the air. He closed his eyes tightly, preparing for the blade to enter his back, and then for his world to grow black forevermore. 

Then there was silence; Delete had obviously wanted to savor the moment before plunging the blade into the clone catcher's back. Cy Clone knew that he was dead for sure, but somehow…something inside his brain was speaking to him…telling him that he still had a chance…

That's impossible, he thought, replying to the voice. _He severed my ankle…he's got me cornered…I can't do anything about it; nothing…_

He then glanced up at Delete, who had his chest out and the Incaligur blade raised high above his head, his breathing coming in long, forced breaths. He still had a look of rage on his face, as if Cy Clone had done something to him that had scarred him forever…

His gaze then traveled down to the dust; he didn't want to be looking at the thing that would surely cause his death. Then, like some sort of miracle, his hand brushed against something…something hard. Turning his head towards that particular direction, he found that his fingers had brushed against some kind of metal ring, lying in the dust…he guessed that it had come from a ring toss game in the area and had strayed from its booth, probably by accident.

He was still looking at it when an idea suddenly came into his head. Grasping his hand around the metal ring, he dragged it out from the dust in which it lay; then, hoisting himself up with one hand, he drew the ring back and threw it as hard as he could at Delete's head, in the discus motion. He heard the sound of the ring whistling through the air, then, miraculously, he heard a pained scream of "YAH!". The ring had obviously struck its mark, thank goodness...

Finally summoning the courage to look up, he saw that Delete was now slightly bent over, his eyes closed tightly. He was clutching his neck with both hands—the ring the clone catcher had thrown had obviously struck him in the throat. In his pain, he had dropped Incaligur as well; it now lay in the dust about three feet away from him. 

At first the clone catcher thought about grabbing the blade and killing Delete, but he knew that Delete would open his eyes sooner or later and spot him. The only other option was to get up and hide somewhere, which he was more than willing to do. He quickly heaved himself up, then leapt behind a rather large storage box. He then drew his knees to his chest and remained completely still, trying not to breathe.

Delete was still in great pain from the impact of the ring, but nonetheless he managed to open one eye. The first thing he saw was the blade, with the metal ring that Cy Clone had thrown at him adjacent to it. Sweat dripping down his face, he removed one of his hands from his throat, then picked Incaligur up from the dust. He stared at it awhile, then called out, sounding both angered and impressed, "Cy Clone, if you are within my hearing distance, I want to say that you may have escaped this time, but next time you will _not_ be so lucky. I _will_ have my revenge, Mr. Clone—I will not rest until I have slaughtered all that caused me to suffer."

Cy Clone then heard the sound of footsteps; at first he thought that Delete was coming toward him, but he then noticed that they were dying out. He remained silent until they died out completely, then let out a sigh of relief. He looked down at his severed ankle, thinking on how lucky he was on escaping the crazed android. 

He then heard the sound of wheels, then a shocked gasp. Knowing that Delete was gone from the area, he finally leaned to the side, so that he may have a better chance of seeing who it was from behind the storage box. To his relief, he found that it was Lucky, one of the main keepers of the cybersite. She was holding Cy Clone's severed ankle; a great expression of fear was on her face. Gazing at her, Cy Clone immediately knew what she was thinking.

"I'm fine!" the clone catcher called out from behind the storage box; he then limped out into the open. Lucky, in surprise, dropped the severed foot and turned her gaze toward Cy Clone.

"Mr. Clone!" she said, sounding both surprised and relieved. "Thank God you're alive! For a second there I thought that you were—"

"Dead, I know," Cy Clone replied. "But as you can see, I'm pretty alive."

Lucky nodded in relief, then her gaze traveled down to meet the clone catcher's missing foot. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at it, then back at the now bloody foot that she had been holding earlier. Knowing that he wouldn't possibly do this himself, she asked, a trace of horror in her voice, "Who—who did this to—"

"Who did this to me?" Cy Clone echoed, leaning against the dumpster in his weakened state, his eyes half closed. "I can tell you full detail who did this to me. But if it's only the name you want, it was—it was—"

He then felt a great exhaustion coming through his body, and, without further ado, his legs buckled out from under him and he collasped on the ground. He wheezed heavily, then the blackness overtook him…

Lucky looked down at the fallen clone catcher, then wheeled herself over to him and, kneeling down, slowly picked up his body. She could tell that he was still alive; his chest was still heaving, but he was out cold; the loss of blood from both his foot and shoulder had left him unconscious. She sighed, then looked up at the stars and muttered, "I'd best call the medic…or the police…they'll know what to do…I hope…"

Little did she know that as she said these words, halfway across R-Fair City, Delete was walking toward the area where he had hidden the cyber-scooter, burning with rage. He couldn't believe that one of his victims had bested him…even when he had the blade of Incaligur on his side…

_He got away_, Delete was thinking to himself as he entered another alley, approaching the cyber-scooter. _He got away, and I was so close…I was SO CLOSE…_

He kicked the air in frustration and disappointment, then leaned against the cyber-scooter and looked up at the sky. He could barely see the stars with all of the lights, but he knew that beyond those stars, beyond those lights, was another victim for him. Cy Clone had escaped his clutches, so now who was left? What could he do?

He then thought back once more to the time in Buttercup Fields…when he had died…or at least the spirit controlling him had. He closed his eyes and thought even more deeply. What had he been there for? He knew that he was there because Delete had been there, but there was something else he was planning on doing…something that he was about to do before he had been killed…

Finally unearthing the thought, he grinned, then, clutching Incaligur more tightly in his cold hand, mounted the cyber-scooter and prepared to lift off…

"Whatcha doing, Doc?" Digit asked as he entered the Control Central main room. Dr. Marbles was typing something onto the control panel; his fingers flew as he pressed each key. He turned up when he saw Digit enter.

"Oh, nothing that you would fully understand, Digit," the Doctor replied, turning his gaze back to the control panel. "I'm just trying to re-function the Hacker alarm—you know how it burned out the last time Hacker attacked, do you not?"

Digit blinked, then said, "Well…I guess so…"

"Good," Dr. Marbles replied, his gaze never leaving the control panel, "Then I suppose you know why I'm re-functioning it at this moment."

"Um, Doc, I don't really know why you're rebooting it," Digit replied, shaking his head. "Could you explain why?"

"There have been murders going on in cybersites adjacent to one another—I saw it on cyberwide television this evening during my daily watching of Cyber Science. The killer hasn't been identified as of yet…two were killed before they could tell anyone, and one passed out before he could explain who his attacker was." He sighed, then continued, "He's not going to come to for a few days, I'm afraid…I fear that if we don't do something to protect ourselves, the attacker is sure to come after us sometime."

Digit started to shake. "M-murder?"

Dr. Marbles nodded. "But there's nothing to fear, Digit. The Hacker alarm is almost up, and I'm sure that will prevent the killing interloper from coming in here."

Digit sighed. "That's a relief."

Dr. Marbles smiled. "That it is, Digit. Now…" He looked over at the Hacker alarm, which was still opened, "Could you possibly get me a screwdriver? I need to replace the cover…"

"Sure thing, Doc!" Digit replied. He opened his chest and dug through the many things he kept there, but within them he could not find a screwdriver. Closing his chest plate, he said, "Uh, I think I misplaced it…"

"That's fine, Digit," the Doc said, "I have an extra one in the room where I create my inventions. You can go and retrieve that for me."

Digit smiled and nodded, then turned around and walked out of the main control room, and down the hallway. It was dimly lit; the lights didn't really matter around the area, that and dawn was starting to come…but it would remain dark for a few more hours. He didn't really care about the darkness this time, he knew that he had Dr. Marbles and Motherboard—plus the Hacker alarm—to protect him.

About halfway down the hall he stopped and, before going into the room, looked over at the deactivation panel. That panel would deactivate any type of alarm system in the area, but only the Doc knew how to work it, and he knew that there were too many code combinations for any type of thief to find out. He was sure of it—he was safe.

All of his fears leaving him, he entered the room, not bothering to turn on the lights, for he would only be in there for a few seconds to get the screwdriver. He had started to look at the tool panels when he heard the faint sound of footsteps…and they were growing closer to the room.

Turning his gaze towards the opened door, he asked, in a quiet, slightly frightened voice, "Doc? Is—is that you?"

There was no answer. Digit, his fear starting to return, called again, "Doc?" Still no answer. It was starting to become oddly silent, he thought; with the lights and the footsteps, it seemed like something out of an old horror movie.

Finally the footsteps stopped, and Digit froze; he saw that a shadowed figure, thin and about the size of Matt, was standing in the doorway. He had his hands on his hips and something that looked horribly like a blade in one of them; he couldn't see the figure's features…except for a pair of blazing red eyes, casting an eerie glow through the blackness…but he knew the silhouette anywhere.

"No…" Digit said, backing up against the tool counter and shaking his head, "No, it can't be…not you…"

"It is, Digit, it is," the figure (Delete, of course) replied, raising the blade. "You may not remember me, but I remember you. It happened a long time ago…it ended up the death of me…and now you are going to pay the price."

"But I didn't do anything!" Digit remarked, wondering what all this was about. He looked around frantically, then, in a frantic attempt to get help, started to shout, "DOCTOR MAR—Mmph!"

His cry was muffled by Delete clamping his hand around Digit's beak. Looking down at him with those blazing eyes, Delete said, "No one can help you now, Digit. You were part of my death, and for that you must pay."

Digit made several frightened whimpering sounds through his clamped mouth, but Delete took no notice of this. He let go of Digit's beak, but pulled forward as he did so, sending the helpless cybird soaring through the air and landing about two yards away from him. He then heard the sound of footsteps as his attacker got closer.

He tried frantically to pull himself up, and succeeded, then started to run towards the doorway to warn the Doc and Motherboard. But before he could do so Delete, who was obviously faster than him, caught up with him in a heartbeat and stomped on his tail, stopping him in his tracks with a hard and painful jolt. He fell to the floor again, landing front first on the hard linoleum, groaning; he felt like he had broken something.

He then heard the footsteps again; Delete was for sure going to kill him now. He knew that he didn't want to…every nerve in his body was screaming not to…but he did it anyway. He looked up towards his attacker.

His vision was becoming blurred with tears of fright, but he could still see the blurred form of Delete, in the shadows. Digit was looking straight into his eyes…his blood red eyes…

"Don't," Digit said, weakly. "Please don't…"

"Bye-bye, Birdie," Delete said mockingly; then he plunged the blade down…


	4. Part IV

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part IV

Digit, his mouth now free of Delete's wretched grasp, screamed in pain and terror as the Incaligur blade entered his stomach. He not only felt the pain, that and the fresh blood trickling down from the open gash, but, to his horror, he could actually feel the blade twisting inside him. It felt disgusting…he would've thought this entirely if he wasn't in so much pain and fear…

Delete then removed the blade from Digit's now bleeding stomach area, then brought it down again, slicing his wing clear from his body. He shrieked in pain again, but he was drowned out by Delete reaching into him, almost instantly. 

Digit was still in great pain, but was curious to know what he was doing. He looked over and saw that Delete was reaching into his stomach gash…then, to his horror, he _ripped out his entrails_. Digit's mouth dropped open, and he tried to say something, but in the horror of what he was looking at all he could do was stutter. 

"You're looking at your inner self now," Delete said menacingly to the horrified Digit, as he held the blood-blackened robotic organs of the bird in his hand. "You have no soul…you're merely an opposing idiotic bird who caused my death. These organs are all you have…and they will be dealt with _now_."

Digit didn't like where this was going, and tried to keep his head up, but the loss of blood was keeping him from doing anything of the sort; he felt his vision growing even blurrier, and this time it wasn't from the tears. He saw Delete raise the shining blade over his now torn out organs, as if getting ready to slice them, then he felt his head spinning; he was beginning to feel weak...light headed…pale. He then felt his head hit the hard, cold floor, and his world went black entirely…

As the cybird fell limp, Delete couldn't help but grin. He knew that Digit was to die soon, and he would have taken the life of yet another opposer…he then looked down at the cybird's entrails. They were bloody and still working; he could feel the electrical surge running through them, and he wanted it to stop. He had raised the blade over the soft, supple parts the moment that Digit conked out, and now was about to lower it to slice into them and kill the bird instantly…

"Digit? Where are you? Surely it doesn't take you this long to get a screwdriver!"

At hearing these words—coming from the lips of Dr. Marbles, of all things, he knew that voice anywhere—Delete froze in place. The blade was still raised over Digit's organs, still slowly dripping blood, and, looking at his hands, he saw that they were bloody as well. The real horror came to him when he looked at his shirt—it was even bloodier than it was before. 

He wanted to kill Dr. Marbles, too, for some odd reason, but the spiritual thought inside him told him that he must not…if Motherboard somehow was able to find out, she'd send the kids to come after him and most likely kill him. Then again, if Dr. Marbles was able to revive Digit, he'd probably rat on him and they'd come after him anyway…

"Digit! Answer me! Where are you?"

Delete didn't have much time left to decide. Choosing the first answer that came to his head, he dropped Digit's entrails, lowered the blade, and quickly bolted from the room. He was gone from the hallway as soon as Dr. Marbles entered it.

"Digit?" Dr. Marbles called again, standing at the entrance to the hallway. Taking a deep breath, he started to walk down the dimly lit area, looking in all directions. He knew that there was nothing to be afraid of, seeing that the Hacker alarm was rebooted, but somehow he had an odd feeling…a feeling that something wasn't right at all. These thoughts echoed throughout his head along with the clacking of his boots on the hard floor.

"Digit? If you're afraid of something, it's okay," the Doctor answered soothingly. "I've rebooted the Hacker alarm, and even if it's not fully closed up, it's still functioning. Digit? I need that screwdriver…Digit!"

He sighed, then his gaze met the entrance to the room where he kept his tools—and made his inventions, as he had informed the bird earlier. The door was ajar, and although he couldn't see it fully, it looked like there was a small pool of something coming out of the doorway.

Adjusting his glasses, he looked at it closer, then gasped and put his hand to his heart. At first he thought that he was just imagining things, having become a senior—but no, it was visible to the naked eye…the pool was made of black, shining blood—the very same that he had seen when Delete was killed—but revived later on—a long time ago. Looking over to the side of the doorway, he could see several bloody footprints…but he knew he couldn't trail them; they ended right next to the deactivation system. He then turned his gaze back to the doorway.

He knew that he didn't want to look in on the sight as to whom that blood had spilled from, but he knew that he had to. Heaving a deep sigh, he pushed open the door a bit more and entered the room. A shining ray of light spilled into the room, and as the Doctor looked down, he saw, to his horror, that Digit had been attacked brutally and most likely dead by now. He lay in a pool of his own blood; his eyes were closed, but the Doc knew that he couldn't have possibly survived this. His entrails were spilling out from a long gash in his stomach, and one of his wings had been severed from his body.

As he looked at this, his brown eyes grew wide, and he could feel himself starting to tremble with fright. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack, but he knew that he had to recollect himself. He was a doctor, not to mention a professional robotic builder, and he knew for sure that he could try to fix Digit.

Kneeling down next to the cybird, he picked up the organs—cringing as he did so—and softly pushed them back into Digit's stomach gash. He looked over them to make sure that they were in the right order, then nodded and, dipping his shaking hands into the blood, pushed them under Digit's limp body and lifted him up slowly. He looked down at the wing on the floor, then shook his head and decided to get back to that later.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, looking down at the broken cybird, "Who?"…

"Absurd! I did nothing of the sort!" Hacker shouted, waving his fist at the two remaining Poddleville policemen. They were standing at the entrance to the Grim Wreaker; serious expressions were set on their faces. Buzz and Delete were standing behind their peeved boss; Buzz looked a bit frightened and unsure, while Delete had a serious, lifeless expression. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was wearing a large black shirt over his previously blood splattered one.

"Listen, Hacker, we had reports from last night about four cybercitizens being put in serious danger," one of the policemen informed him. "Three were murdered, and one lucky person—Mister Cy Clone himself—managed to survive but passed out before he could inform anyone."

"What does this have to do with me?" Hacker asked angrily, crossing his arms. "And that's _THE_ Hacker to you!"

The policemen ignored this remark. "Well, one of the three people murdered was a mister Digit LeBoid," the other policeman said. "We were informed by Dr. Marbles a few hours before dawn that he was found lying in his tool room, in a pool of his own blood. He also reported several bloody footprints leading to the deactivation panel…and, after further inspection, we found that there were several slice marks in the floor, possibly from a sword."

"And…?" It didn't take a genius to find out that Hacker was getting even more peeved by the second with the two policemen.

"Dr. Marbles informed us after inspection that you used to work for Motherboard before you went bad," the first policeman continued. "He said that you knew every nook and cranny of Control Central—which rules you down as a prime suspect. The inspection shows that the 'deactivation' panel had been deactivated several moments before Digit's murder. Besides Dr. Marbles and Digit, _you _were the only one who knew the correct code to deactivate the panel."

Hacker stuttered for a second, suddenly uncovering the fact that this was true, then recollected himself and said, quite sure of himself, "I swear to you that I was sleeping on the night of the murders!" He turned his gaze towards his two henchmen and continued, pointing at them, "Ask Buzz or Delete! They're my only witnesses, those idiotic duncebuckets…"

The policemen tore their gaze away from Hacker and settled it on Buzz and Delete. Both robots looked at them; Buzz seemed to have an uneasy gaze, while Delete's lifeless stare never left his face. The first policeman took a deep breath, then said, "Okay, you two, I want you to tell me everything that happened last night, with as much detail as possible." He nodded toward Buzz. "I suggest that you speak up first."

"Well, I didn't see much, except 'dat I'd yelled at Delete earlier for screwin' one of our missions up. Later, I found him in Hacker's room…the boss was asleep!" He said this quickly, for Hacker had cast a cold glare at him. "Anyway, I saw him in Hacker's room…he was acting a bit strange, I thought. I warned him to get out before Hacker woke up—"

"And why did you do that?" the second policeman asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Well, because every time Hacker finds us in his room, he nearly strangles us."

"Uh huh," the policeman said, nodding. "You may continue."

"Okay, so I warned him, then decided to go back to my room, to think about what Delete was doing, and how he was acting. I then got a bit uneasy, not to mention hungry, so I went into 'da main control room to get myself a donut. 'Dat's when I heard 'da footsteps."

"Was it anyone suspicious?"

"No. It was Delete…he had something in his hand—I guessed it was a blade, and there was something brown splattered all over his shoit."

"Huh…that sounds suspicious."

"Well, 'dat's 'da same way I felt, too," Buzz informed them. "I decided to question him, and find out exactly what 'dis was all about. So, it turned out 'dat he had stolen Hacker's knife to replace it with a new weapon, and the stains was dried mud."

"Weapon?"

"He only uses it in extreme situations."

"Okay…anything else you can tell us?"

"No, 'dat's all I can think of."

The policeman nodded, then turned to Delete. At first he shuddered at the cold stare that Delete was giving him, but managed to recollect himself and ask, "Okay, what do you know about last night's murders, then?"

Delete was silent for a few moments. Then, taking a deep breath, he finally replied, in a tone as lifeless as his stare, "All that Buzz speaks is true. Hacker was asleep on the night of the murders. Unless he could somehow be in two places at once, there is no way that he could've done anything."

The policemen looked at each other, then said, "Are you sure of this?"

The two robots nodded. The policemen shot each other an unsure gaze again, then the second said, "Well, we need proof that it wasn't Hacker. Ah…does he have the code to the deactivation panel somewhere?"

Delete nodded his head. "He keeps it hidden somewhere in one of our rooms."

"Great," the first policeman said. "Then we'll just scale the area and—"

"No!" Hacker snapped. "I am not going to let you two poorly shaped Poddlings scale my ship! It's my property and I don't want any low class policemen like you ripping it apart!"

"Then how can we be sure that you didn't murder them? We need that code paper to dust for fingerprints."

Hacker shot them an angry glare, then said, "Fine! I'll send someone to scale the ship. Buzz! Delete!"

The two robots immediately stood at attention. "Yeah, boss?" Buzz asked, already pretty sure of what he was going to say.

"Go scale the ship! Now!"

The two nodded, then turned and headed toward the ship. As they were doing so, Buzz looked up at Delete…he had many disturbing thoughts going through his head again. Delete had made it clear to him that he was out to merely sell out a weaponry item, but he did have that faint tone in his voice that suggested that he was lying. But Delete had never lied to him before…why would he now?

He was also concerned about the thefts as well. First Delete had stolen the knife from Hacker's room, then he had returned with something that looked horribly like a blade…and, right before Hacker was questioned, he had overheard the policemen talking in the back about the theft of the sword of Incaligur; it had been stolen from the Cyberspace Museum of History the same night of the murders. What's more, they'd found a blade plunged into the panel that deactivated the laser system…it was bloodstained, they had said, but Buzz had never had the chance to see it. 

His thoughts were ended as soon as they ran up the sliding metal platform and entered the ship itself. They didn't stop running until they entered the main control room, where they slowed to a walk. When they were at the entrance to the hallway they stopped completely. 

"Okay, Delete, listen up," Buzz said, looking up at his younger brother. "We both know 'dat 'da paper is in one of 'dese rooms. We'll cover more ground if we split up. You check in Hacker's room, since 'dat's 'da most likely spot, while I check in our room."

Delete cocked his eyebrow, then said, "Maybe we should reverse the roles, Buzz."

"What do you mean by 'dat?"

"What I mean is that maybe you should search Hacker's room, and I should search—"

"Never mind 'dat!" Buzz snapped, giving Delete a little shove. "You're goin' to check in Hacker's room whether you like it or not! And take off 'dat black shoit after we're finished scaling; it looks bad on you."

Delete shot him an angry glare, but followed suite and walked down the hallway to Hacker's room. Buzz sighed, then walked down to the area where their room was and pushed open the door. A stream of light illuminated the main features, but he couldn't see a piece of paper anywhere.

"Well, I'd better start looking," he muttered to himself as he entered the room and looked around. "Okay…if I was 'da boss—which I want to be someday—where would I hide a piece of paper? An _impoitant_ piece of paper?" He scanned the room again, then his gaze fell on the bed. "Under 'da bed, maybe…"

He dropped down on his knees, then reached his hand under the bed and started to feel around for anything that felt like a piece of paper, and was halfway through when he suddenly felt a sharp jolt of pain, as if he had just been cut.

"OWW!" he yelped, quickly removing his hand from under the bed. He was about to clutch it when he suddenly stopped, then held it up to his face for a closer look. It had been cut, indeed, but it was a light gash, and the brush was pretty light; barely enough to break the skin…he soon found that blood was starting to trickle from it as well, despite this. Wondering what was going on, he rubbed his cut hand, then looked down at the spot under the bed again. 

Taking care not to get cut this time, he reached underneath and felt around for the object that had given him the cut in the first place. He pulled several things out from underneath, including another stale donut he'd forgotten about and Delete's picture of Inez (he did wonder why Delete kept a picture of her under his bed like that…), until he finally brushed against something cold and hard.

_Now we've got something_, he thought as he grasped the object. _It's probably just a knife or something…maybe Delete wanted to make sure that I wouldn't touch it._ He started to pull it out from under the bed as he continued to think, _Well, maybe he just wanted to search in here so that he could still keep it a…Oh my God…_

He thought these last three words when he finally found out what he was looking at. For there, lying in the middle of the floor, pulled out by his own two hands, was the blade of Incaligur, its silver tip stained with dried blood. The light from the hallway shone across its glimmering blade, making it shine like the new sun. 

Letting out a short gasp, he grasped the handle of the blade and slowly lifted it up into the air, all the time keeping a look of great shock on his face, never taking his eyes from the blade. Where did this come from? And what was it doing in their room? They said that the Incaligur blade had been stolen on the night of the murders…not to mention that they had said that they had found a bloody dagger plunged into the laser panel…and now the once shining blade was stained with blood, both human and robotic.

He continued to stare at his reflection in the blade for the longest time; even through the blood he could see the full features of his face. He then cocked his eyebrow, for at this time his reflection had vanished and darkness had overtaken it. He had wondered what had blocked out his light, and his question was answered by a cold voice, sounding very much like Delete's, saying:

"_Put the blade down, Buzzie_."

"Is he going to be all right, Dr. Marbles?" Inez's voice asked worriedly.

Dr. Marbles looked up from the metal table he was fixing Digit on and, wiping the blood from his hands, said, "I'm sure he'll be fine. His organs are back where they belong, and I've managed to reattach his wing and close the stomach gash. He's going to be out for a few moments, but I'm expecting him to wake up any time now."

Inez sighed with relief; Jackie and Matt did the same. "That's good to hear."

"Very," the Doc agreed, smiling. "If Digit's organs had been slashed or if I hadn't found him that soon, he would be dead by now…"

"What happened to him, anyway?" Matt asked. "You never told us."

The Doc looked down at the floor, then, shaking his head, said, "Matt, if I told you just what I saw when I found Digit lying in this very room, you'd be scarred for life."

"I can take it," Matt replied, crossing his arms. "Tell us please, Doc."

Dr. Marbles heaved a deep sigh, then said, "Well, last night, I sent Digit into this room to get a screwdriver; I was going to fix the Hacker alarm and I needed to screw the cover back on when I was finished. When he never came back, I was concerned, so I went to look for him. When I found him, he was lying in the middle of the floor…his blood was all over the place, one of his wings had been severed from his body, and his stomach was sliced open…it also looked like his organs had been ripped out."

"Ew, ew, and double ew!" Jackie said, making a disgusted face. "That's something I did _not_ need to hear."

"Calm down, Jacks," Inez told her. "Digit managed to get fixed, and you weren't there to see it anyway."

"Who did that to him?" Matt asked. "He couldn't have done it himself; he would never do it himself, unless he was trying to commit suicide…man, I wish I didn't know about these things sometimes…"

"It's fine, Matt," Dr. Marbles replied. "I myself asked the same question…I called the police at once. After inspection, they found that someone had hacked into our system and shut down all of the alarms. I knew it wasn't Hacker, because he would've taken Digit with him, but besides me he was the only one who knew the code to the deactivation panel…and you won't believe what they found scarred on the floor."

"What?" all three kids asked at once.

"_Look_." The Doc pointed down at the floor, near the doorway. At first the kids couldn't see anything, but sooner or later they saw several slice marks in the floor; it looked like they came from some kind of knife…

After a while, Jackie said, "Well, I know that that's very queer, Doc, but why are you so afraid of it? They're just marks in the floor…I can understand the part about Digit; I know that I would feel the same way, but—"

"I'm afraid you haven't been informed, child," Dr. Marbles stopped her, adjusting his red rimmed glasses. "That floor is linoleum; also part marble. It's very hard to cut through. And the marks look like they might have come from a sword. Of course, everyone in cyberspace knows the only blade that can do this."

"What?" Matt asked, sounding incredibly curious.

"The blade of Incaligur," Dr. Marbles said gravely.

"Don't you mean Excalibur?" Inez asked, crossing her arms. "I believe that's the correct name for the sword you're speaking of."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, it's _Incaligur_, my dear child. It was used in the cyberspace war of the tenth eon…and it helped the side that bore it win. For that sword, children, is made of the sharpest, strongest metal in cyberspace. Once sharpened, it was strong enough to cut through anything—and I mean _anything_." He shook his head sadly. "Last time it fell into the wrong hands, thousands of innocents were slaughtered. And now that it's been stolen, I fear the worst."

"Don't worry, Doc," Jackie told him. "We'll—"

She was interrupted by a low moaning sound. Turning around, the four saw that Digit had finally come to his senses, and was slowly opening his eyes. Dr. Marbles, smiling at once, walked over to the table to check on him; the kids followed.

As Digit opened his eyes, he could only see shapes of blurred color at first, but he could still hear voices…they were echoing inside his head…they sounded like they came from the surface, and he was underwater…

_Digit, are you okay?_

Digit, thank goodness you're alive! We were so worried!

Digit, answer us!

Digit moaned again, then closed his eyes tightly…he thought that these were all merely hallucinations. He had seen what had happened to him…he had embraced the blackness…and he had known…he had seen his death, right before his very eyes…

_Digit! Please speak to us!_

Digit! Come on! Please!

Opening his eyes again, he finally saw that things were beginning to come back into focus. At first he thought that he was to see the figure with the blade again, but he was relieved to find himself staring up at the faces of Jackie, Matt, Inez, and Dr. Marbles. Heaving a deep sigh, glad to breathe again, he said, softly, "Hi, guys."

"Digit!" Jackie said happily. "You _are_ alive!"

"Of course I am!" Digit replied, starting to regain his strength once more. "Why else would I be—" He stopped short when he remembered Delete…the blurred image of Delete, the cold grin on his face, holding his organs…

At this very thought, Digit began to shudder intensely. Dr. Marbles, feeling a bit of concern for the cybird, asked, "Digit, what's going on?"

"My death…I remember it…tall…black…figure…standing in the doorway…brandishing a silver, bloody blade…I was helpless…he had me cornered…he ripped out my…my organs…" Covering his face with his wings, he let out a shaking sob, then said, "Please, Doc, don't ask any more questions! It was terrible! I don't want to remember it anymore!"

"It's okay, Digit, it's okay," Dr. Marbles replied, placing his hand on the cybird's shoulder. "I just need to ask you one question…did you get a good glimpse of the figure who killed you?"

Digit looked up from his wing; the Doc and the kids could see tears starting to form in his eyes. He shakily nodded before saying, his voice choked, "I-I got a good glimpse of him from the light in the hallway right before he killed me."

"And do you still remember him?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. Now, Digit, one last thing…could you tell me who exactly he looked like?"

Digit stared at the Doctor for the longest time, then finally said, "Y-you won't believe me if I told you."

"Tell me," Dr. Marbles said firmly. "For the sake of the innocents who will soon meet their fate."

There was no arguing with this logic. Digit swallowed hard, then said, wiping the tears from his eyes, "It was…it-it was…"

"Delete!" Buzz shouted in both surprise and terror, for Delete had come in unexpectedly and was giving him a look he was less than comfortable with. He found that his younger brother was standing in the doorway; the black shirt had been removed, and his frontside was free of blood. He now narrowed his eyes dangerously as he stepped towards Buzz, who dropped the blade at once and quickly scrambled backwards, until his back was pressed to the bed.

He watched as Delete picked up Incaligur, then, running his hand across the blade, glared at Buzz. "You know, don't you?"

Buzz looked confused. "Know what?"

"Don't be a fool, Buzzie!" Delete snapped at him, drawing the blade back in a threatening attempt to stab him. "You know very well what's going on. First you find that I'm in Hacker's room with a knife, then four people were attacked on that very same night—three ended up dead. Next you found Incaligur under our bed, its blade bloodstained. Don't tell me you don't know!"

Buzz thought for a moment, trying to piece this all together. Then, finally realizing, he shook his head and said, his face almost paling, "No…it can't be…you would never…"

"But I did, didn't I?" Delete said coldly, putting his hands on his hips. "Hard to believe that your sweet younger brother would do such a thing, huh?"

Buzz could only stare at Delete, and yelped when Delete suddenly lashed out, grabbed him by his arm and lifted him up into the air, so that they were face to face. Buzz was left staring into Delete's eyes…the cold, blood red wells of unhappiness…

"Listen to me, Buzz," Delete said through clenched teeth, his eyes blazing, "Tonight I'm going to go off to finish what I started once and for all. If you try and come after me, I'll kill you. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. You must remain silent…" He held the shining blade up to where Buzz's throat should have been, "For your own life depends on it."

Buzz, frightened out of his wits at the time, quickly nodded. Delete, unsmiling, removed the blade from its location near Buzz's throat and let go of his arm. He dropped to the ground, then stared up at his brother, still enveloped in his shadow.

"Remember this, Buzz," Delete said warningly, staring him straight in the eye. "You don't stand a chance if you violate your promises."

Buzz, still petrified, nodded again. Delete smiled, then, running his hand down the side of the blade again, left the room, leaving Buzz by himself to go over what had just happened. He was now panting and sweating, the thoughts racing furiously through his head…

_Oh my God_, he thought. _It was Delete the whole time…and I didn't even rule him down as a suspect. Who knew that he would steal the knife just to steal an even more powerful weapon? Certainly not me…I mean, Delete's my younger brother…he would never do something like this on his own free will…or would he and never shown it? Well, he's shown it now. It's just hard to picture my brother as a murderer…and he's even proud of it…Ye Gods, I can't let this slip by! Last time Incaligur was in the wrong hands thousands were slaughtered. And what was with the 'finished what I started' thing? And Delete…even in times like these, he would never turn against me…he would never…_

"Something's wrong," he muttered to himself, looking at the doorway, "And I'm not about to let 'dis pass. Even if he did threaten me, I'm willing 'ta take 'dat risk…"

It was later in the evening that Dr. Marbles suggested that they go to the museum. The kids and Digit had had second thoughts about going, but the Doctor insisted that they do. "It's the only way to look for clues," he said.

"But Doc, what if the killer comes in there? I don't want to be killed twice!" Digit said, starting to shudder again.

"It's fine, Digit," Dr. Marbles said. "The children and I will be there to protect you if the killer does anything dangerous. We need to go there to inspect."

"What's there to inspect?" Matt asked.

"You'll be surprised, Matt," Dr. Marbles replied. "Since the policemen are too horrified to inspect any further after what happened with that museum security guard, they asked us to do so. It may be nighttime, but I'm sure the museum will let us in if it's closed by then."

"Yes, but Doc, what about what Digit said? What if the killer comes in there?" Inez added, shaking her head. "We don't know our way around that museum! He'll have us cornered like rats!"

"Don't worry," the Doc said firmly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm quite sure that he's got all he wanted…after stealing Incaligur…"

"Don't worry, Doc, we're on the case!" Matt replied. 

The Doc smiled. "Good. Now…" He led them down the hallway, "I'll escort you to the cybercoupe. You may need it in order for transportation to your destination."

"And where might that be?" Inez asked.

"Poddleville," the Doc replied as they entered another room. "They decided to build it there because of…" He coughed, then said, "Tourist attraction…"

At the same time that evening, Buzz, having seen Delete walk out to do his dirty work, instead of staying put like Delete told him, followed him down the hallways. He stopped dead and hid behind anything within his reach whenever Delete stopped to look behind him, then shook it off and continued walking.

As soon as Delete left the Grim Wreaker, Buzz hid behind one of the landing poles until he passed, then slowly inched his way out from behind it. He looked just in time to see Delete leave on the cyber-scooter.

Heaving a deep sigh, he quickly ran down the platform, then stopped dead when he found that the two Poddleville policemen were still in the area. They were near one of the control panels outside the Wreaker, drinking what looked like coffee and talking to one another. He wondered why they didn't see Delete leave…it wasn't hard to miss. Buzz looked at them, then, suddenly getting an idea, slowly edged his way over to them.

It was a while before one of the policemen noticed him. Looking down, with a peeved look on his face, he snapped, "Yeah? What do you want, shrimp?"

Buzz looked like he was about to nail him to the wall for that insult, but shook it off and said, sounding firm and serious, "I need an escoit to 'da Cyberspace Museum of History."

"Why?" the policeman replied, taking a sip of his coffee as he did so.

Buzz sighed, then said, "Listen, I know who 'da killer is, but I can't tell you on coiten coicomstances. I just need a ride 'dere, and fast. The future of your cybersite…and probably thousands of innocents…is at risk."

The two policemen stopped abruptly, then looked down at the shrimpy robot for quite some time. Finally, the second policeman said, sounding a bit shaky, "If you know, we'll take you…"


	5. Part V

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part V

Delete arrived at the Cyberspace Museum of History just in time to see the kids walk through the glass doors at the entrance. Grinning, he dismounted the cyber-scooter, the blade of Incaligur clutched tightly in his hands. He stared up at the steps of the museum as he said, in a mockery type tone:

"Well, well, well…it seems that my prediction was correct…that fool Marbles has led them straight into the museum…right where I want them." He rubbed his hand on the side of the blade, then started to walk forward as he continued, in the same tone, "Finally, I'll be able to finish what I started…and everyone is powerless against me…"

He started up the steps, taking them two at a time, and had entered the museum when the Poddleville policemen arrived. Buzz was with them on their cyber-scooter; he was hanging on to the back of one of the policemen's shirts. He now looked down at the empty, perfectly ordered streets below as the policemen landed in front of the museum.

As they were about six inches from the ground, Buzz let go of the policeman's shirt and jumped off the cyber-scooter. He landed a bit hard, but regained his balance on the sidewalk as he heard the sound of someone running towards him; he looked up just in time to see the mayor of Poddleville, a mixture of horror and shock was on his face. He stopped when he saw the two remaining policemen, along with Buzz, about six inches below them.

"What's going on?" the first policeman asked. "As if I don't already know…"

"The killer—I saw him—he just went into the museum a few moments ago," the Mayor replied, in his usual panicky tone. "He had Incaligur with him…and he had that 'death' look on his face. We're all doomed if we don't stop him!"

Buzz nodded. "Yes, I saw him and what's more, I know who he is." He turned up to the two policemen and said, pointing toward the doors of the museum, "I'm goin' in. You two stay out here, just in case…"

"Why shouldn't they go in instead of you?" the Mayor asked.

"Because last time someone like 'dem confronted him, 'dey ended up dead!" Buzz snapped back. He turned towards the museum and continued, a serious look on his face as he stared at it, "I don't care how hard it is…I'm going to go in 'dere and I'm going to stop him."

"But you don't stand a chance!" the second policeman pointed out. "He's got the most powerful blade in cyberspace while you—well, you're completely unarmed. How are you going to stop him?"

"I don't know how, but I'm going to try," Buzz replied, sounding determined; then, without further ado, he stepped forward and started running up the steps to the museum's entrance.

Matt, Jackie, Inez, and Digit walked through the museum's hallways; they were entirely covered in blackness except for the security lights, which didn't do much help considering it drenched everything in shadow. Every now and then Matt would stop and look behind him, and Jackie would shudder slightly, but they continued to scale each exhibit like detectives on a serious case…which this one was slightly being. There was no sound in the room except for the clacking of their footsteps on the hard, tiled floor.

After a while, Matt stopped in the arts exhibit and turned around to look at the others. "I don't see anything," he whispered. "I think that we're safe for now."

"How can you say that when we're standing in the middle of a closed museum at night?" Inez asked, putting her hands on her hips. "How do we know that he's not hiding in the shadows or anything?"

"Listen, Nezzie, we'll be fine as long as we stick together," Jackie replied, making a poor attempt to sound cheery. "Just so long as we don't split up, we'll be perfectly safe."

Digit nodded, although he too was quite scared after what had happened to him. "Yeah, Jackie's right," he agreed, his voice sounding a bit shaky.

Inez heaved a deep sigh, then said, "Okay, I suppose I'll take your word for it…and, Jacks, it was bad enough when Matt called me Nezzie; don't you start in on it too."

"Oh, sorry," Jackie replied sheepishly.

"It's fine," Inez replied. She turned around, then adjusted her glasses as she looked at the array of display cases. They were filled with all sorts of historical items that she'd never seen before in her life…maybe that was because she'd never been here before and knew very little about the history of cyberspace. To her, these items were fascinating.

Her gaze then traveled to the exhibit of the crossing for Sensible Flats. She saw that there were many wax figures standing there (most of them she didn't recognize), and there were several fake props as well, including a fake cow skull and a Casanova wagon. 

She looked harder at the exhibit, then gasped and put her hand to her mouth…something was in that display…something that shouldn't have been there…and it was moving. She couldn't make out any body features, but she could see a pair of glowing, fiendish eyes. As the figure drew closer, she could see the glimmer of the Incaligur blade as it came out of the shadows.

"Guys…guys!" she stammered, slowly backing up, not taking her eyes off of the figure's shadow. She knew who it was; Digit had told her…and her guess was correct, for as soon as the figure came out of the shadows, it was, sure enough, Delete. 

"Correct, child," Delete replied, in a voice that sounded strikingly familiar to Inez…it was his voice, all right, but there was something about it that sounded different…it had a slight evil-ish tone in it; she remembered it from somewhere, but she just couldn't remember…She just continued to back up as he continued, "I was hoping that I'd find you here…I knew that that fool of a doctor would lead you into this area. It seems that I have some unfinished business to take care of."

Inez continued to stammer and her eyes grew wide as she continued to back up. Delete only responded by jumping down from the exhibit and continuing, walking towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, "You don't remember me…you never did remember me. You've forgotten that ordeal as easily as I used to forget. Well, not anymore!" He held up the blade now, in a threatening gesture, as if he was about to stab her or slice into her. "I remember everything that you've done…and now you…and your little friends, must pay for it."

He raised the blade higher and was about to slice down into her head when Matt's voice suddenly shouted, echoing throughout the room, "Hey! Leave her alone, you rusted freak!"

Delete's eyes narrowed into a cold glare as he turned to look at Matt. Slowly lowering the blade, he said, in a tone as cold as his glare, "You have no right to interfere with what I'm doing right now, Matt."

Matt was starting to get uneasy about confronting Delete, but he wasn't about to let Inez or anyone else become injured. Taking another step towards him, he put his hands on his hips and said, glaring back and looking determined, "I have every right that you have to kill her!"

"Matt!" Inez said angrily, turning to look at him.

Matt whispered the word "sorry" to her, then turned back to Delete. "Why are you doing this? You killed two innocent people…you injured Cy Clone…and you almost ripped Digit apart. What's the big deal!"

"The big deal?" Delete snapped back. "I'll tell you what the big deal is. You four have been part of something that I could never forget…even though it happened a long time ago, I still remember. I had every right to kill those people. I had every right to injure that fool of a clone catcher. And I had every right to tear apart your stupid little turkey before you revived him!" Matt now saw that he had his free hand clenched into a fist, and his teeth were gritting; he was obviously getting angry.

"Yeah well…that still gives you no right to…"

"Matt!" Jackie hissed through her teeth. "Please, quit while you're ahead!"

"Yeah!" Digit whispered, agreeing with her.

Matt turned around to look at them, then said, "It's okay…I've got it under…"

"MATT!" Inez shrieked in terror.

"What—" Matt started to say, but before he could answer he heard the sound of a blade whistling through the air, then he heard a loud _SPLORK_ sound; it was followed by a sharp pain in his chest. Not wanting to look down, he merely looked up, which wasn't any better, seeing that Delete was now standing right in front of him. His eyes were still set in their cold glare, but a wicked smile had now spread across his face, and sooner or later, after looking at how his hands were positioned, he could see why.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Matt looked down, then, to his horror, saw that in his looking away, Delete had managed the chance to plunge the blade into his chest, and deep…so deep, in fact, that it had gone straight through him; Jackie and Digit had to witness the horror of the blade's bloody tip emerging from his back. He gave out several frightened gasps, then clutched his chest in the area where Delete had stabbed it. Blood had already begun to trickle from the gaping area and down onto his sweater, staining it a dark brown.

Delete continued to hold the blade in place, until Matt finally gave a deep sigh, then fell limp. At the sign of this, Delete pulled the blade free of Matt's chest, and the boy slumped to the ground; a pool of blood started to form from around him…not big, but it was large enough in this case to be considered a pool. 

Lowering the blade, Delete then turned his gaze towards Jackie, Inez, and Digit; all three were looking at him in sheer terror. Inez was still near the Sensible Flats history display, Digit was standing near a glass case, and Jackie had run up to the fallen Matt, not caring for the consequences of doing so, seeing that he was about two-three feet from where Delete was standing now.

"Matt…" she said sadly, kneeling and looking down at the boy's body. She then remembered Delete and looked up; he was now standing directly above her, but to her relief the blade wasn't raised yet. She just stared at him for the moment, a look of both fear and hatred on her face. 

Buzz, meanwhile, had entered the museum and had gone up the stairs, hoping that he would possibly find Delete or anyone up there, seeing that no one seemed to be in the downstairs exhibits. He knew that he was wrong at once when he was halfway down the hall of the R-Fair City exhibit; that's when he heard Inez's voice, and it didn't sound good. It also sounded disturbingly close.

Looking to the side, he saw the main reason why Inez sounded close—the upper floor he had gone up on led to a hallway with a railed ledge; he knew that if he looked down, he would be able to see the Sensible Flats and arts exhibit. But he also knew that he was too short to look over the rail; it was about three feet higher than he was…also, through the fenced wiring, he estimated a thirty-foot drop to the ground, and even then he couldn't see half the room below.

He sighed, and was about to turn around when he saw, half hidden in the shadows, a large, artistic mobile hanging from the high ceiling of the area. It was made of glass and cut metal, and its frame was made of tough wiring that looked thick enough for a man to walk on. 

Getting an idea, he grasped the wiring of the rail and started to work his way up, as if climbing a fence, until he finally reached the top. Carefully balancing himself, he waited until the last moment, then leapt forward; he was about six inches from it when he managed to grasp the edge of the frame.

He struggled to pull himself up, then, succeeding, got down low and slowly crawled across the thick frame, until he reached the edge. Gripping the framing more tightly, he looked down, and saw, sure enough, Delete, along with the two girls and Digit. He also saw Matt…which was a much less pretty sight for him, as he saw that Matt had been stabbed already…

He continued to watch as Delete stood over Jackie, then, after several moments of Jackie staring at him, managed to say, his voice as emotionless as it had been with him before, "I'd best not weep for him, child, for you—you and your other idiotic friends—are about to join him in the world of death." He then saw Delete raise the blade over his head, point down, as he continued, "Farewell, Jackie."

_Good God_, Buzz thought, gripping tighter onto the mobile, _he's going to kill her next. I can't let that happen…but I'm all the way up here! What am I supposed to do? Come on, Buzz, think fast! Think! You're just wasting more time not doing so!_

He looked back down at the scene again, then frantically scanned the room behind him, looking for something that would catch Delete's attention, somehow. When he found nothing that Delete would take interest in, he sighed, then looked down again…just in time to see the bottom of the mobile he was on; he hadn't noticed it before. 

As if some kind of miracle, he found that he was resting on an area that was directly above a large circular shape made out of cut metal; it was about three times as tall as he was and was attached by a heavy chain. He looked at it, then looked back down at the scene. Delete was pausing, perhaps for dramatic effect, and Jackie was still frozen with fear above Matt's body. Looking back at the shape again, he saw that it was almost directly over the location in which Delete was standing.

Finally getting another idea, almost the instant he noticed this, he slipped his hands under the chain and began to unhitch one of the links. If he did that, he knew, the shape would slip from its position and clatter to the ground below him…it would surely catch Delete's attention, but the shape was heavy; it weighed at the least fifty pounds. He would be taking a few risks as well if he did this, but he saw no other way.

Meanwhile below, Delete, tired of doing the same old over-the-head stab routine, developed a better idea and lowered the blade. Jackie sighed with relief, thinking that he was pausing for good, but stopped when she realized that he was swinging the blade back instead. She gulped; she knew that if he did a horizontal strike, her head would be severed clear from her shoulders.

"I know you're afraid, Jackie," Delete said, staring her straight in the eye. "I can sense it in your gaze."

Jackie knew this was true, but she didn't answer and continued to stare at the blade, her eyes widening. She knew that she wasn't about to look away; Matt had done that, and look what had happened to him in the process. She shielded her head, knowing that she was gone for sure…

Buzz was still busy unhitching the chain and, hearing Delete say this, only fumbled with it faster. He finally gave it one sharp jerk and, being a robot, this was a good feat of strength. The chain hitch snapped in half at once; he gripped onto the frame again as so not to lose his balance (the loss of the shape had tipped the mobile drastically). He heard the wind whistle as the shape dropped to the ground, then he heard a shocked scream, followed finally by a loud _CRASH_. Daring to look down, he saw that the shape was now lying in the middle of the floor; Delete was next to it with a look of great shock on his face. Dust from the floor was rising from the great impact.

Delete looked up at the mobile and glared, not seeing his older brother on top of it at the time, and turned back to Jackie, clutching the blade and saying coldly, "Alright, where were—"

He stopped abruptly and his eyes widened; obviously he had breathed in the dust from the impact, which was practically surrounding them. He clutched his throat with one hand and gave a sharp cough; it jerked him violently, and he responded by clutching his throat with the other hand, dropping the blade on the floor at once. A large line of hacking coughs then followed it, he was trying to collect himself but his lungs appeared to prevent him from doing so.

"What's—wrong—with me?" he choked, between violent coughs. The kids wondered this too, and Buzz did for a moment, until he finally realized why Delete was having trouble with the dust.

"Of course!" he muttered to himself, grinning as he looked down below, "Delete has a breath problem! Why didn't I remember 'dat before?"

He watched as Delete continued to cough; it seemed like forever until his lungs were free of the dust. His eyes tearing, he looked over at the fallen blade…just in time to see that Digit, who had been hidden in the dust at the time, was slowly inching his way over towards it. Glaring, Delete grabbed his throat tighter with one hand, and, slowly removing the other from his neck area, said, "Oh no you don't!" in a hoarse tone, then lunged at him.

Digit looked up just in time to see Delete jump at him, and yelped as Delete landed, kicking him hard in the stomach as he did so. The bird soared backward about five feet, landed hard on his back, then slid about three feet across the floor; he stopped in front of the glass case that he had been standing near earlier. It didn't take a genius to realize that he was out cold from the impact.

Jackie turned around to look at him, then, remembering Matt, quickly turned back just in time to see Delete pick up the blade from the floor. Running his fingers along the tip, he said, still a bit hoarse, "Nice try. But you should know that you're all going to die, no matter what you do."

Buzz stopped abruptly and sighed in disappointment. The fallen piece didn't catch Delete's attention…he was still going to hurt the rest of the Cybersquad, even after that. There had to be some way, however…maybe he just didn't know what it was yet.

Then he remembered the incident with Delete earlier…about how he had said that if Buzz trailed him, he'd kill him. He shuddered at the thought of his new idea, but he was willing to take risks. It was now or never, he decided…

"Delete!" he shouted, as loudly as possible, praying that it would catch the robot's attention. And it did—as soon as Delete was about to bring the blade down into Jackie's head, he stopped and looked up in the direction of the mobile again. He could see nothing for a while, as it was half hidden in shadows, then, looking harder, he saw that Buzz was there, holding on for dear life to the upper edge of the frame.

Delete's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You…" He snarled, forgetting all about the three kids and the knocked out bird behind him. He started to walk toward the mobile, but stopped and turned around to confront the three kids. Pointing at Jackie and Inez, he said, warningly, "After I deal with him, I'm coming back for you. Believe you me, I swore it when I said that I was going to kill you all." He paused for a moment, then said, "Oh yes, and don't bother trying to escape from the museum. It's locked, and what's more this place is like a maze. I know it like the back of my hand. Don't bother a thing…you cannot escape and you never _will_."

At hearing these words, Buzz suddenly remembered whose voice that had been. He remembered that day…the rain, the death, the blood…and that scarred Delete clone…he had been trying to kill them…he had accused them of making them suffer…and he remembered that attack on Delete, and those very words: "_YOU CANNOT ESCAPE AND YOU NEVER WILL_!"

_You cannot escape and you never will!_

You never will!

You never will!…

That phrase echoed inside Buzz's head as he continued to cling on for dear life onto the frame of the mobile. Below him, the kids were still trying to figure it out; they had been cut before that line was said, so they didn't remember a thing. Jackie and Inez just stared at each other with frightened looks on their faces…until they heard a pained groan from below them. They looked down just in time to see Matt opening his eyes…but barely.

"Matt!" Inez said. "You're awake!"

Matt groaned again, then said, "Not for long…" He looked around, then said, "Where—where's Delete?"

"He left," Jackie replied. "Don't worry about him, Matt…you have yourself to worry about now."

"I don't care about myself right—" he groaned, then his head hit the floor again as he fell back down. Jackie and Inez stared at him with frightened looks on their faces, as his eyes slowly closed again, but not before he could say a string of words: "Jackie…Inez…guys…please…" He took a shaky breath, then said, reaching out his hand, "Wait…" Then his world went black entirely.

Buzz watched this entire ordeal happen, and shook his head sadly. He could do nothing about it from up here…all he could hope for was that Matt was still alive and could keep breathing until this nightmare was over. He heaved a deep sigh, then suddenly felt the mobile give a violent jerk.

He grabbed hold of the mobile's frame tighter, thinking that this was merely an after-effect of the loss of that shape. But after a few moments he finally realized, _Wait a minute…the loss isn't the thing that's making the mobile jerk…_

Whipping around, he saw Delete standing on the other edge of the frame, brandishing the blade in one hand and gripping onto one of the thick copper wires that supported the mobile with the other. The added weight to that side of the mobile had made it tip slightly; it was now set in a diagonal position.

Starting to sweat with fear, he stuttered for a moment, then said, "How—how'd you get up here so fast?"

"I'm naturally quick," Delete replied, unsmiling. He stared up at Buzz…Buzz didn't know why for a moment, then suddenly realized. Now that the mobile was set diagonally, it would only be a matter of time before he finally released his grip on the mobile frame. He would then, of course, slide over to the other end, and then what Delete did he didn't even want to imagine. He needed some way to get down from the mobile, however…

"Come here, Buzzie," Delete said coldly, making a hand gesture. 

Buzz, frightened by Delete's all-too-nice tone, quickly shook his head. Delete sighed in frustration, then, raising the blade of Incaligur, swung it, slicing one of the copper support wires in two. The mobile gave a violent jerk as it tipped to the side, and Buzz, having had a bit of a shock by what happened, released one of his hands from the mobile. Delete jumped backward in time for the thing to tip almost completely vertically; it was close to hanging by a thread. 

Delete waited patiently as Buzz struggled to regain his hold, every now and then running his fingertips along the sword, like he had done before. The cold gaze never left his face; this made Buzz even more uncomfortable as he continued to struggle. Finally, he stopped and just hung there, not wanting to try anymore…

Delete now saw his chance and, slowly getting up on the rail and using the sword for an aid in balance, raised up his foot and, to Buzz's horror, stomped on the end of the mobile facing him. This caused it to jerk forward violently; Buzz could no longer hold his position and let go, sliding roughly down the mobile's frame and landing on the ground face first in front of his younger brother.

A bit dazed by the sudden impact, he looked up just in time to see Delete standing over him, with the blade raised above his head; he seemed ready to plunge it down at once. Seeing Buzz's gaze gave off the effect; he quickly sliced the sword down, in a vertical motion. Buzz, quickly regaining his reflexes at the same time, leapt out of the way just as the blade struck the ground; it left a large, visible gash where the sword had touched it.

Pulling the sword out of the floor, Delete looked over just in time to see Buzz quickly running down to the other end of the exhibit. Glowering, he raised the blade, then ran after him, following his brother's foot patterns closely. There was no hope in escaping him.

Buzz continued to run down the room, knowing that in his search he had seen another open railing. His heart was racing rapidly in his chest as he ran, and sweat was trickling down the side of his head; he had his teeth clenched and was thinking the same three words repetitively over in his mind as Delete trailed him: _Don't lose it, don't lose it, don't lose it_…

He finally stopped at one of the other railings, sure enough, on the other end of the room. Knowing that he was a few yards ahead of Delete, he stopped to catch his breath, gasping; the running he had done was not very comfortable for him…besides the fact that Delete was onto him, he was also feeling cramps in his side. 

This stopped when he saw Delete coming out of the shadows towards him; a look of unamusement was all over his face. He had the blade raised, obviously ready to plunge it down into Buzz the second he was within one-two feet from him. 

Still panting, Buzz quickly climbed up onto the rail and, trying his best to keep his balance, looked down into the room below. It wasn't any particular area, merely the entrance he had gone through earlier. Cringing, he saw that this too was at least an estimated thirty foot drop to the ground; his only hope of ever surviving the fall was the large, exquisite fountain in the middle…but the chances of landing in there were low due to the room's area, and the water looked too shallow to meet his standards…

"Buzz…do you know the hazards of standing on a rail?" Delete's voice said; it now sounded dangerously close…too close, in fact. "You could fall to your death…or, even better, you could face the blade."

Buzz took a moment to look behind him, and sure enough, Delete was there, and he was close…about a foot or two away from him, he estimated. It would've been the perfect opportunity for Delete to stab him behind his back as he looked down, yet he chose not to do it. He knew that sooner or later Delete would fire on him...he then turned his gaze back towards the fountain below.

Without pausing, he looked back at Delete again, then leapt off the railing, aiming for the fountain below him. Delete gasped in shock for a moment, then walked to the edge of the rail and looked over. Buzz was still dropping, he saw, but he didn't enjoy the fact of him just hitting the ground and it being over—just like that. No, he wanted to fight for it, and that was exactly what he was going to do, even if it meant following in his footsteps…

With a determined grunt, Delete jumped onto the rail and leapt off like a professional diver, holding Incaligur close to his side with both hands in midair. He didn't look frightened. He never shrieked once, as the original Delete would've done. He merely continued to plummet to the ground after Buzz, the look of determination and anger never leaving his face.

As he was falling, Buzz looked around at the sights of the entrance frantically…if he didn't hit his designated spot, it would all be over for him in just a few seconds…and even if he did manage to somehow survive, he knew that Delete was still trailing him; he heard the sound of the wind hitting the blade that he bore.

Finally shielding his eyes, he braced himself for impact and, miraculously, ended up splashing into the fountain, but it was a close call; he was precious inches from the edges. Delete, who had been falling after him in the same array, hit the water seconds after this. 

Gasping for air, Buzz finally surfaced, soaking wet…he was amazed to find that this hadn't jarred his circuitry, especially after the impact he had taken from it. He coughed, slowly getting out of the fountain and wiping the excess water in his eyes. He didn't even notice Delete surfacing after him until he heard the loud coughing and sputtering; Delete's breath problem was obviously brutally punishing him again.

Buzz quickly wiped off the water in his eyes and whipped around, just in time to see Delete get out of the fountain; he too, was soaking wet and dripping with water from the fountain. He was still wheezing slightly, but had kept the blade in his hands during this entire ordeal. His gaze was now locked directly on Buzz.

Buzz was about to turn around and start running again when he noticed something about Delete's reflection in the puddles of water around the fountain (they had formed when the two hit the water, so they were quite large). At first he thought that he was just hallucinating, but as he looked harder at the puddles, he saw something completely different…but also familiar to him. Too disturbingly familiar…

Buzz's eyes widened as he stared at the reflections of Delete in horror, then his gaze traveled up to meet Delete. He was once again standing up in his tall, tough position; Buzz could tell why this was…

"You're not Delete," he said quickly, for his breath was coming in short gasps, from both water and fear. He began to back up and said, pointing at him accusingly, "Now I know…know why you've been acting so strange…"

"Oh, do you?" Delete replied; another forced hack followed it.

"Yes," Buzz replied, narrowing his eyes. He paused for a moment, then said, "You've gone too far, _Blackjack_…you should have just let 'da darkness overtake you…"

"What?" Delete replied, forcing a laugh. "And miss all the fun? No, I think not, Buzzie. I took over my little 'friend' here for a reason, and judging by the past events you already know what that reason is. I'm going to put an end to the opposing…not just you, but the many others that viciously beat the weak. Often they belittle the strong. And no, after what I've seen happen in Castleblanca, I cannot let this stoop to the next level. I've decided to attack it before it rises."

"Before _what_ rises?" Buzz snapped back, his eyes narrowing. "You don't get it, do you?"

"I don't think that there _is_ anything to get," Delete replied coldly.

"Oh, but 'dere is. I've been with Hacker ever since I was programmed, and by what I have seen in my lifetime I can assure you 'dat everyone has to oppose another once in a while. Opposing may be unkind and pointless, but sometimes people just have to let it slip out. If you're planning to kill off 'da opposing, you're planning to kill off the _woild_. I hope you realize 'dis."

Delete stared at him for a while, then his eyes narrowed into their dangerous glare again. "Wrong…you're _wrong_…" He said angrily, clutching the sword. In a sheer act of anger, he yelled and lunged at Buzz, slicing at him vertically. Buzz leapt out of the way, as he had done before, and the sword once again struck the linoleum.

Gritting his teeth in both anger and frustration, Delete pulled the blade out of the ground and looked up in time to see that Buzz had gone again. He couldn't see him, let alone his shadow, but he could hear the sound of his frantic footsteps. Glaring, he determined the location of the noise, then ran down the all-too-familiar hallway…

He finally stopped in front of a door, the very same door that had led him to the weapon that he now concealed. Forcing a laugh, he said, "Fool…led me right into the weaponry exhibit. Doesn't he know that's the most dangerous area in the museum at a time like this?" 

He stopped, then shook his head and raised the blade, turning serious once more. "But, that will be a good thing…for me…prepare to die, Buzz…I don't care what you said…I'm going to do it anyway…" And with that, he strode into the exhibit.


	6. Part VI

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part VI

Buzz, terrified that Delete was still coming after him and at the same time confused that Delete didn't listen to him, ran into the weaponry exhibit and slumped against the base of an armor suit, panting heavily. He had bolted while Delete was occupied with pulling the sword out of the floor, and had run down the hall closest to him—which had been the hall that led to the weaponry exhibit. He didn't know how big a mistake he had made; he was too shocked with fear.

Once he had caught his breath, he looked around the room, a look of great astonishment on his face. Inside this room there were hundreds of assorted weapons, some weak, some sharp, and some still stained with old blood that could never be washed off. All of these had been retrieved from ancient cybersites, he knew; there were ID cards listed next to them on where they had come from and what they had been used in that made them so special. 

His gaze then fell on the empty glass case where Incaligur had been kept; it was still shattered, but the shards of glass had been removed from the floor. He sighed as he looked at this; that sword now gave him horrible memories. He wondered if he could ever stare at the case—or the blade, for that matter—without ever flinching again.

He then heard that all-too-familiar sound—the sound of approaching footsteps. Freezing in place, he thought at once about turning around…it could be anyone, but from the way things were going now, it was most likely Delete. He continued to hesitate as the footsteps drew closer…finally, a strong hand clapped itself down on his shoulder.

"AAAH!" he screamed; this scream echoed throughout the entire area as he fought his way out of the hand's grasp, then skidded across the floor, stopping in front of a glass display case. He then looked up toward the figure, which was hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit exhibit, but the figure didn't seem to have any of Delete's characteristics, nor was it carrying a blade. Its eyes weren't blazing; instead they were dull and almost unnoticeable; however, he did see the glint of a glass lens from them every now and then.

"Good Lord," a voice replied, sounding a bit startled, "What was that all about?"

Buzz looked up just in time to see a tall, thin man emerge from the shadows, clothed in a blue suit and wearing, sure enough, black-rimmed glasses. He had short, neatly cut brown hair, along with a poorly shaven mustache to match. A small tag that said "Curator" was attached to a pocket on the chest of his suit; he had his hand over his chest, as if just coming out of shock.

Buzz couldn't reply to him for a moment and just stared up at him, then finally said, greatly humiliated, "Sorry about 'dat…I thought you was someone else."

The curator cocked his eyebrow, then said, "What do you mean, 'someone else'? The museum is closed, I hope you know that."

"I do!" Buzz replied, starting to get a bit peeved. "Listen, you need to get some help here as soon as possible."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because not a long time ago tree kids and a robotic boid came in here to search for clues of the theft of Incaligur…you know, the sword that everyone's afraid of because it can cut through anything you can name? Well, you see, I know about 'da killer, and he's after me right now…but I suggest 'dat you help 'da kids foist. One of 'dem's already been put in critical condition."

"Uh-huh…and just what were three kids and a robot bird doing in the museum at this hour?"

"I just told you! You're 'da curator, anyway, you should know!"

"I wasn't informed by anyone entering my museum at this time. The only two who dared to enter the museum were that one guard and the killer. The guard is long gone, and the killer…well, I don't know where he is. I think that we should perhaps see about questioning you and seeing if you weren't the one who stole the blade of Incaligur, for you see, that blade is not only dangerous to any victim to the one who wields it, but it's also priceless. Why, one chip off of that blade is worth over a thousand dollars' worth of damage. And furthermore…"

Buzz was starting to get highly annoyed with the curator at this time, and was just about to tell him to shut up when he saw another figure emerge from behind a nearby display case. He was too shadowed over to make out any characteristics, but the blood red glow from his eyes explained everything for him. 

He pressed himself up against the case as the curator continued to ramble on; the figure (obviously Delete) drew closer with every word he spoke. He at first didn't worry for the curator…that is, until he noticed that Delete had the blade raised over his head as he came out of the shadows. He gasped, then tried to warn the curator, or at least wave him away, but in his shock all that came out was:

"He's here…get out…get away…get out! Get out now! Get out before he comes any closer! Get out! Get out! Quick…get out now! Get out!" He now saw that Delete was raising the blade higher, and shouted, "Please! Please! No, get out! Get out get out get out!"

The curator finally realized what he was doing, but by then it was too late for him. Delete swung the blade down; Buzz watched in horror as it entered the curator's back and came out of his chest. The curator gasped as blood began to trickle out from the new wound; his eyes rolled toward the ceiling, as if he were looking toward the heavens. He then gave several short gasps, as Matt had done earlier, and his eyes rolled back entirely.

But Delete wasn't finished. Just when Buzz thought that he had seen enough, he saw Delete take a few steps closer to the curator, then, to his horror, brought the sword quickly sideways, ripping him in two halves. Blood splattered everywhere within the area in which they were standing; Buzz watched as the blood and, in some cases, flesh, hit the glass that he was next to. He then looked over at where the curator once was; Delete was now covered once again with splashes and dabs of blood, but he didn't seem to notice. Then again, he didn't seem to notice the organs on the floor or on his body.

Delete paused to remove the curator's intestines from his shoulder, then turned to Buzz, crossing his arms and once again giving him a cold glare. Buzz was too horrified to speak at the moment, but finally stuttered, "He—he didn't do nothin'!"

"He was a nuisance," Delete replied plainly. He then brandished the sword and said, his voice at once turning cold again, "Now, where were we before I was so _rudely _interrupted?"

Buzz backed up against the now blood-splattered display case and stared up at Delete; fear was plainly visible in his eyes, he could tell by the way Delete was looking at him…it was the same look that he did earlier with Jackie. He didn't want to look away, but at the same time he didn't want to stare at Delete; the sight was too horrifying. 

Realizing that he was cornered, he began visibly shaking as Delete stared at him. Delete, now visibly recognizing his fear, grinned evilly, then said, "You know that you're cornered, don't you, Buzz?"

_What can he do? Read my mind?_ Buzz thought to himself as he continued to stare up at Delete. He suddenly felt another surge of horror; if Delete could read his mind, he would be able to predict every move he made before he made it.

Noticing the look on Buzz's face, Delete smiled and slowly shook his head. "I can't read your mind, Buzz," he told him, "I can read your eyes."

_What?_ Buzz thought in confusion. Then he remembered…while Delete could never read peoples' emotions by looking at their faces, Blackjack could. That's exactly how he sensed the fear in Delete and the hidden fear in Matt…he could read the emotions in their eyes. That left a little less threat, but he still had an uneasy feeling…

Not able to look in Delete's eyes any longer, he slowly drew his gaze away from Delete's and looking down towards the floor, his hands over his head. He could feel the sweat running down the side of his head as he stared…he knew that this wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't stand Delete's look…

This indeed proved to be a mistake. No sooner than he looked away, Delete at once raised the blade and brought it down without hesitation; Buzz cringed, thinking that this was the end of him, but miraculously, it struck the surface of the case before it struck him. Delete ignored this and brought the blade down the glass wall, sooner or later shattering the entire front. Glass shards and pieces of splintered wood hit the floor along with the blood and organs of the curator. 

Finally looking up at Delete, he saw that he still had the blade down; it was precious inches from slicing at his head. Delete had the upper hand in this move; he was surprised when he removed the blade from the shattered glass several seconds later, then lowered it and stared at him.

He wondered what this was all about, until, without warning, Delete shot forward and kicked him in the stomach, just as he had done with Digit to knock him out. The force was terrific; Buzz suddenly knew how Digit felt as he was thrown into the air, then landed hard and slid across the floor, hitting a nearby wall adjacent to the shattered display case. The vibrations of the wall caused a glimmering, old fashioned sword on a mantle above him to fall off its mount and strike the ground point first, becoming wedged into the linoleum in the process. 

He jumped slightly as the sword struck the ground, but he was in too much pain to make a bigger reaction. Delete had kicked him pretty hard, and the pain now felt like he had busted one of his major organs…he wondered if Delete was strong enough to do that, let alone Blackjack. However, he wasn't knocked out…a bit down, but not out. He was thankful for this; if he were out Delete would kill him in a heartbeat.

He struggled to get up as Delete approached him, then stopped in front of him. He then raised the blade up in preparation to at last strike him down the center of the head. As he raised the blade higher, he said to Buzz, in an icy voice, "There's no hope left. Surrender to the blade!"

Buzz started to shake again; he knew that he was done for…until his gaze met the sword stuck in the floor next to him. It wasn't too far away…he could possibly reach it and fight Delete…but if he knew Incaligur correctly, he knew that it would slice right through the blade. Sighing, he gazed up at the mantle…just in time to see the ID card next to the now empty mount in which the sword once lay. He knew that he didn't enjoy reading, but this looked interesting. Looking harder, he finally managed to make out these words:

Blade of Justice

Rival to Incaligur

Used as an extra in the cyberspace war of the 10th eon

The only blade to rival Incaligur, this blade is…

That was all he needed to hear. Before Delete could manage to strike him, he at once jumped to the side, giving a cry of "NEVER!" and snatching up the blade from the ground in the process. Delete gave an angry snort, then lunged at him and brought the blade down. Buzz, still on the ground, raised the blade up just as Delete brought it down. There was a loud, echoing _CLANG_ as the two blades struck; Delete pushed on the blade, trying his best to slice it in half, but his results against Justice proved unsuccessful. 

Buzz quickly jumped to his feet, removing the blade just as Delete brought Incaligur down full force, having it strike the ground for the third time. He wasted no time in pulling it out; Buzz obviously had a blade that was just as strong and powerful as his was, and he didn't want to take any chances, even though he knew that Buzz hadn't fought with swords before in his life.

He then looked up to face Buzz, who now had the blade raised in front of his face, as if poised to attack. He narrowed his eyes; if Buzz didn't know how to sword-fight, he could overpower him at once and, once Buzz was left defenseless, finally end it by easily killing him. 

Giving a loud yell, he lunged at Buzz, the blade raised high over his head. Buzz responded by growling angrily, then, as soon as Delete was within two feet from him, quickly raised the blade of Justice up just as Delete brought the blade of Incaligur down. Another _CLANG_ ensued as the two equally powerful swords struck each other; Delete landed on the floor and at once began to place force on the sword, driving Buzz's dangerously close to his throat. 

Buzz glared, then pushed his sword forward, rebounding the drive onto Delete. Delete looked shocked, but quickly regained his reflexes and leapt backward before the blade could cut into his throat. He lowered the sword for possibly defense, still staring at Buzz. 

Buzz began to feel uneasy, but knew that he had to attack Delete, or else he would die. Gritting his teeth, he at once leapt forward and raised the blade over his head, as he had seen Delete do earlier. Before Delete could have a chance to react, Buzz brought the sword down; it was precious inches from Delete's head, but instead cut deep into his shoulder. 

Delete shrieked as the blade entered his shoulder, and, tears of pain coming to his eyes, slowly reached up with his empty hand and clutched it, even though the blade was still wedged deep into it. Buzz, glaring, pushed the sword forward with terrific force, then removed it as Delete, caught with surprise, lost his balance, stumbled across the room and fell to the floor, nearly dropping the blade in the process. He groaned for a moment, clutching his bleeding shoulder, then finally looked up at Buzz, glaring at him. In a raspy voice, he said, "Well, aren't we a little rebel?"

"Don't call me 'dat!" Buzz shouted in anger, then, lunging forward again, raised the blade in an attempt to strike at him again. Delete, however, knew that this would happen and raised the blade over the area where Buzz was going to strike. The blade struck Incaligur once more, and Buzz fell backward, rubbing his head due to the violent vibrations that had happened when Delete countered the attack. 

His pause allowed Delete to get to his feet, then, removing his hand from his shoulder, clutched the blade with both hands and glared at him. Buzz, regaining his senses at last, looked up just in time to see Delete leaping at him again. He quickly jumped to the side as Delete landed on the ground, flinching as another jolt of pain shot through his cut shoulder. 

"Pretty good for someone who's never dueled before in his life, huh?" Buzz said confidently as Delete slowly raised himself up, his eyes tightly closed due to the pain in his shoulder. He shot an angry glare at Buzz once they opened.

"Yes, very good…" He admitted, rubbing his shoulder, then, raising the blade up in front of his face, growled angrily, "But not good enough!"

He leapt at Buzz again, this time going for a middle attack in an attempt to slice him in two, as he had done with the curator. Buzz, recognizing this attack, at once swung the blade up in defense, narrowly blocking the attack. Delete landed on the ground again, then brought the sword down in a low attack. Buzz didn't recognize this one, and was a bit surprised when he was knocked off of his feet. He landed on the ground hard; however, this didn't cause him to drop the sword, he was still holding onto it tightly.

"Drat!" Delete hissed under his breath. He shook his head, then, seeing that Buzz was too busy trying to regain his senses than to notice him, finally got a good hit on him, bringing the blade deep into his arm, nearly slicing it open. This time it was Buzz's turn to shriek; he looked down at his arm in time to see that it had been gashed open; blood was starting to spill from it and onto the floor.

He gasped in pain and horror, clutching his arm, but refused to let go of the sword; this proved to be a good thing, for just as he looked up, he could see Delete lunging at him again in an attempt to slice his entire body in two. He quickly staggered to his feet and blocked the attack as Delete brought down the blade; this sudden force, however, caused a sharp jolt of pain to shoot up his arm. He cringed and started to sweat, but refused to remove the sword from its position.

"Stubborn idiot," Delete hissed, removing the sword. Buzz lowered his as well and stared up at him. "Don't you realize that you're putting your own life in danger by dueling me further? You know you'll lose, correct?"

Buzz panted heavily for a few moments, then replied, "No, I don't notice 'dat. I do notice 'da risk, but I can't allow you to put 'da kids and Digit in more danger. What you're doing is wrong, and you know it."

Delete grinned. "Well, this is new," he replied, crossing his arms. "_You_ sticking up for those pathetic kids and their stupid bird? I suppose I don't fully know you, Buzz. I thought that you hated them."

"I do hate 'dem—" Buzz stared up at his younger brother, who was grinning at him evilly. He then realized that this wasn't his Delete…the one that always seemed to look up to him and help him anytime he could…the one that always stuck by his side in the worst of times. Glaring, he raised up the blade and leapt at him, shouting, ignoring the pain in his arm, "But not as much as I hate _you_ right _now_!"

Delete's eyes widened in shock as Buzz brought the blade down again, cutting into his side and narrowly missing his chest. Delete screamed again, then, clutching his bloodied side, returned the glare at Buzz. His teeth clenched, he removed his hand from his side, then responded by raising the blade and leaping upward once more. Buzz waited for him to come back down, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Realizing that Delete hadn't come back down, he suddenly shook his head in surprise, then looked around the room, half expecting him to come out of the shadows and attack him. There was no sound; not the scuffling of footsteps, not the swinging of a blade, nothing. The only sound in the room was the humming of the laser panel that protected the other pieces of weaponry from theft or harm.

Scratching his head, he scanned the entire area, looking for anything that might have a chance of being Delete. When he found nothing, confused, he looked around and finally muttered to himself, "Now where's 'dat stupid metal idiot gone t—"

His sentence was ended with an ear piercing scream as Delete dropped down from the top of the display case and once again brought down the blade, slicing a deep gash in Buzz's side. In too much pain to even think straight, he dropped the sword on the floor and brought both of his hands to his side, panting heavily and trying to stop the blood from flowing. 

Before he could have a chance to react to this action, Delete kicked the sword's handle as hard as possible, sending it spinning through the air and landing about five feet from where they were standing. Buzz, now realizing that he was left defenseless, stared up at Delete in fear as he shoved him to the ground with his free hand, then held the blade up to his throat.

"So it all ends here, Buzzie," Delete told the horrified robot. He pressed the blade harder to his throat, enabling him to get up, and continuing, "I'll kill you at once…it's not as good as having you die a slow and painful death, but I shall stick with it anyway. But it's not over once I've killed you…after I leave your dead and mangled body lying in this precise area, I shall kill the kids as well…then I'll take care of Digit. And, just to make sure that none of them become revived like that stupid cyber-turkey, once that fool of a doctor at last comes in, I shall kill him…he too, will die…"

Buzz struggled to get free of the sword's hold as Delete glowered at him, then finished, "And once they've all met their deaths, I shall leave…my mission won't yet be over, but now that they know, it won't be safe to kill anymore. Of course, Delete won't live once I've left…I'll take his soul with me, as well…for power. He shall die, too…_he shall die_…just like I did so long ago." He then raised the blade over his head for the last time, then said, "Goodbye, Buzz. The next thing you know, you'll be dead; it'll be over for you…it'll be all over…"

Buzz brought his hand to his throat and stared up at Delete. So it all ended like this…it couldn't end this way…it just couldn't. If Blackjack got away with this, they would all die…and he would still thrive on, killing other innocents just to spite himself…

Tears of anger forming in his eyes, he ignored the thoughts screaming inside his head and thought, angrily, _No…it won't end this way. I won't let it…I WON'T LET IT_…

His gaze then fell on the sword, still lying about five feet away from him. It would be a risk, but if he didn't follow through, Blackjack would win…and he wasn't about to let that happen…not to the kids, not to Digit, not to himself.

Ignoring the pain he felt in both his inflicted cuts, he quickly leapt out of the way just as Delete struck. The blade missed him narrowly and dug once again into the floor; Delete was getting peeved with this but pulled the blade out nonetheless. He then glanced over at Buzz, who was slowly reaching towards the sword…

"Oh no you don't!" he screeched angrily, leaping at him. Buzz quickly looked up as Delete landed in front of him, then kicked him down once more and, holding him down with his foot, raised up the sword yet again, preparing for his final strike on Buzz.

Buzz stared up at Delete, glaring at him and panting like an enraged animal, then he looked down at the sword. Delete hadn't bothered kicking it out of the way; he knew that the attack would be too swift for Buzz to manage to get to it in time. 

Quickly reaching out, he grabbed the sword and, knowing what he had to do, brought it up and shoved it forward, stabbing it through Delete's chest. Delete froze as the other end of the blade came out of his back; his eyes widened and his mouth slightly dropped. The blade of Incaligur was still raised over his head, but he brought it down slowly as he continued to stare ahead, the look of mixed shock and fear still frozen onto his face. 

Buzz slowly released his grip on the sword handle as blood began to trickle from the wound. He still left the sword impaled through Delete's chest; he knew that he had to leave it that way, despite the pain he felt whenever he stared at it. Delete continued to stare ahead, until he finally opened his mouth and shrieked, bringing both his hands to his chest but at the same time refusing to let go of Incaligur. 

Buzz watched as Delete frantically clawed at his chest, trying to get the blade out, but it was stuck in deep, and pretty firmly, too. He gave several frightened gasps as he sank to the ground, still ripping at his chest. A pool of blood was starting to form around him as more trickled down from the wound; he clenched his eyes shut tightly, but even then Buzz could see the tears of pain running down from his eyes. 

After several moments of this, Delete finally gave out a deep, shaking sigh, then collapsed on the ground. Buzz saw that he was still trying to work the blade out of his chest, but he was losing more blood and becoming weaker by the moment. Finally his eyes rolled back and blacked out, as he removed his hands from the blade handle and fell limp. The hand that the blade had been clutched in slowly opened, and Incaligur slowly rolled out of his hand and onto the floor, its bloodied tip still shining like the clean silver near the handle. 

He stared at his reflection in it for a while, then turned back to Delete. The blood was still leaking from the wound, but what seemed queer to Buzz was that the blood was not only black, as all robot blood was, but a slight reddish lavender color. He sighed, then walked over to Delete's lifeless body and, giving the sword several sharp twists, worked it out of Delete's chest. Blood began to flow more freely as he stared at the blade, then looked at the floor and tossed it aside, dropping it in the spot next to Incaligur. He heard the faint clattering sound as it struck the floor, never to be used again. 

He then looked over at Delete, still lying dead in the middle of the exhibit. Realizing that he had killed his own brother, he gave a light sob, but refused to weep, for he knew that he had to do it…or else Blackjack would've not only killed Delete, but the rest of them as well. He shook his head, then looked down at the open gash in Delete's chest where he had wedged the blade earlier.

_Why did it have to end this way?_ He thought to himself as he walked over to Delete's side and eyed the wound. _Blackjack had the chance, and he got it…he got his chance to kill someone before he died again._

He shook his head, then looked up at the ceiling window; it was still dark, but judging by how the stars were disappearing it was only a few more hours until dawn. He looked back down at Delete again…then rubbed his eyes, thinking that he was having more hallucinations.

He shook his head again, then looked down at Delete's chest again, but no, it was still plainly visible. The wound inflicted in the chest was starting to close itself up…it was growing smaller by the second as it filled itself in…the bleeding had finally stopped during this, and, with one flash of light (he shielded his eyes during this), the wound closed entirely. 

His eyes wide with shock, he slowly reached his shaking hand towards Delete and softly touched his chest. He then slowly ran it down where the wound used to be; it was, indeed, gone from existence. Wondering how this could've happened, he blinked and scratched his head, then looked down towards the blood, which was beginning to trickle down into an open flood drain adjacent to him. It seemed to glow as it flooded into the drain and forever disappeared from eyesight, hopefully never to be seen by any of them again.

"Buzz!" a familiar voice called. Buzz at once turned up his head…just in time to see Dr. Marbles heading into the exhibit. He was carrying something small and motionless in one of his arms; Buzz guessed that it was Digit. Jackie and Inez, looking relieved but still slightly terrified at the same time, headed in after them. Jackie was carrying Matt, still looking pale and lifeless, on her back.

"Doc!" Buzz replied, sounding a bit surprised and a bit relieved at the same time. He scrambled to his feet, then said, "How did you—I mean, how did you know where to look—"

"We didn't know at first," Dr. Marbles told him. He shifted Digit to one side, then continued, "We didn't even know that Delete was after you at the time; Jackie and Inez said that he was leaving and was coming after them next after he dealt with someone. We didn't know it was you."

"Well, I guess you do now!" Buzz replied in an annoyed tone, crossing his arms. After all that he'd done to save their lives, they didn't even know what had happened after that. Who else would save them? The curator?

Dr. Marbles blinked, then replied, "Yes…however, we didn't know it was you at the time until we were trying to get Digit and Matt to wake up. Inez had called me on the Squawk and was begging for me to come and try to get them both up before they went out forever…which, I suggested to myself, was that they would die. We were just about to get Digit up when we heard an ear-piercing shriek from down the hall."

Buzz nodded; Dr. Marbles had obviously heard the shriek that Delete had made when he had stabbed the sword through his chest. He watched as Dr. Marbles sighed, then looked down at Delete and clapped his free hand to his mouth. "Good heavens!"

"I know, Doc," Buzz replied, a hint of sadness in his voice as he stared down at Delete. "It turned out 'dat Blackjack had overtaken him…he wasn't doing it on poipose, he never meant to. He attacked me with Incaligur, so I was forced to kill him with its rival."

He picked up the blood-coated sword of Justice and held it up for the Doc to get a closer look. "I stabbed him 'troo 'da chest with it. I had no other choice…"

Dr. Marbles adjusted his glasses and took the blade from Buzz's hands and looked it over. It was indeed coated with Delete's blood, but a look of deep consideration was on his face as he glanced over at Delete. "Then why isn't there a sword wound inflicted in his chest? There's supposed to be one if what you speak is correct."

Buzz glanced over at Delete, then his gaze turned back to Dr. Marbles. "Well, I don't exactly know why 'dere still isn't one…I stabbed him 'troo 'da chest, and he fell to 'da floor, trying to pull it out, and fell limp a few moments later. As soon as I removed 'da blade from his chest, the wound somehow healed itself. I don't know why, or how…"

Dr. Marbles held up his hand to silence him, then, looking down at Delete, replied, "I think I know what happened here…you didn't kill Delete, Buzz."

Buzz looked confused. "I didn't?"

"No. You killed Blackjack instead."

Jackie and Inez's eyes grew wide as they heard this name for the second time. They finally remembered Blackjack from that long stretch of time…he had tried to kill them by slashing their arms open, and they had nearly died of blood loss…their gaze fell on Delete, still lying completely motionless, his eyes wide open in shock, even though they were blacked out. 

Buzz still looked confused. "But…how is 'dat possible? I stabbed Delete 'troo 'da chest…shouldn't he have been 'da one 'dat died? And does 'dis mean 'dat Delete is still alive?"

Dr. Marbles sighed, then explained, "Blackjack had full control of Delete, Buzz. If I know Delete, and of course I do, he would never try and attack you on purpose, let alone try and kill the rest of us. If Blackjack had remained in his brain, he would've still been able to fight it. However, he couldn't." He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses again as he continued, "Which means, of course, that Blackjack had somehow become a spiritual demon in his afterlife. He probably entered Delete's body through the head, then burrowed his way into the heart area. This, of course, gave Blackjack full control of him, seeing that if this was mind control, Delete would've been able to fight it. When you stabbed him through the heart, you destroyed it, thus destroying Blackjack in the process. When Blackjack died, you thought Delete had died, of course. However, he isn't dead if that wound managed to heal itself. He's actually better off now that he's free of Blackjack."

Buzz looked at him, even more confused than he had been before. Scratching his head, he made a questioning noise. Dr. Marbles sighed, then, looking over at Delete, finally finished, "Delete isn't dead, Buzz. He's just shut down for the time being. If my theory is correct, I should be able to revive him within a one-hour time limit."

Buzz sighed with relief at this, then looked at Digit and Matt. "And, what about 'dem?" he asked, pointing at the two.

Dr. Marbles looked at them, then said, "Digit is only out cold; I should be able to bring him to his senses quite easily, that, however, will take time. Matt, on the other hand, has suffered from blood loss greatly. Inez and Jackie informed me that Delete had stabbed him through the chest, but he's still alive, bringing me to the conclusion that Delete hadn't hit him in the heart, but had merely punctured one of his lungs. All he needs is a few bandages and some more blood, and he should be fine."

Buzz nodded, then looked back down at Delete again. Suddenly worrying about something, he turned back to the Doctor and said, "But Doc, what if he somehow remembers everything 'dat happened 'dese past few days? If he does, he'll throw a fit…I mean, really…killing tree people, badly injuring another tree, and of course trying to attack me."

"We'll just have to see what happens," Dr. Marbles replied. He reached down and easily scooped up the robot in his other arm, then looked around the room in great disgust. "Looks like you had quite a fight here…"

"Uh…yeah," Buzz said, shuffling one of his feet across the floor. "You see…I sort of entered 'dis room by mistake, and…the curator came and asked me what I was doin' here at 'dis hour, and started going off on 'dis long rant…and I think 'dat the guts and blood near 'dat display case are self-explanatory."

Dr. Marbles looked at them, a great look of horror and disgust on his face, then turned back to the girls. "I want you to head back to the cybercoupe, children. Take Matt with you. I want you back before he loses any more blood."

The girls nodded. Jackie, shifting Matt's weight, turned around and headed out toward the entrance; Inez followed her. Dr. Marbles looked at the two lifeless robots in his arms, then back at Buzz. 

"You're coming with me," he replied. 


	7. Part VII

DEMON FIRE

By Grand High Idol

Part VII

Although Buzz was still a bit shaken from the previous battle, he readily agreed to go with Dr. Marbles. Nodding, he slowly walked up beside him, then followed him out the door of the weaponry chamber and out into the main entrance. 

It was when they were in the middle of the room (near the fountain that Buzz and Delete had both landed in earlier) when Dr. Marbles finally took a deep breath, then said calmly, "Buzz…may I be obliged to ask you a question?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, go ahead," Buzz replied, looking up at him in a tired notion.

The Doc sighed, then looked down at Delete's lifeless body. He then cast his gaze on Buzz, and continued, "I know by fact that Delete is your brother…your younger one at that. While most brothers would find it hard to destroy their sibling, you managed to attack him and kill him without letting him go easy. And I know it wasn't rivalry. How did you do it?"

Buzz looked at him in silence for a moment, then sighed and, finally finding his answer, replied, "Because I knew 'dat it wasn't Delete doing 'da fighting. At foist it was hard for me even to try and pick up the sword, but 'dat was when I realized 'dat Delete was no longer 'dere…it was only Blackjack…only Blackjack…" He trailed off.

Dr. Marbles stared at him in silence for a moment, then replied, "What you did took an extreme amount of self-regret, whether it was Blackjack or not. Before I told you, you probably knew that it would spell the end for him, didn't you?"

Buzz nodded. "I didn't want ta kill him…" He now looked like he had second thoughts. "But right when he pinned me down, he said 'dat everyone was going ta die after he took care of me…everyone 'dat I knew…and I didn't want 'dat ta happen. Brother or not, I knew 'dat sparing one life wasn't woith the snuffing out of six others. So…I finally was forced to do so, even if it meant killing Delete…I wanted ta get Blackjack away from me…forever…"

Dr. Marbles turned his gaze straight ahead as he continued, sounding calm, "He is away, Buzz. After this ordeal, I doubt he'll ever try and get near another one of you again. I'm sure that everyone thought that he was gone for good once he died, I thought so as well. But we should all know that the life of the spirit lives on…as long as that remains, no one really is gone from existence. But it takes one long to finally understand, and sometimes it has harsh consequences."

Buzz didn't reply but seemed to understand; a gaze of deep thought was etched into his face as they at last reached the doors of the museum. The Doc, taking care not to drop the two lifeless forms he held in his arms, pushed on one of the glass doors with his shoulder and headed out down the stairs. Buzz, still looking deep in thought, followed him.

They strode in silence down the stairs and to the curb, where the two remaining Poddleville policemen and the mayor were still waiting. They looked half-asleep, but immediately stood to attention when they saw the Doc and Buzz standing at the curb, just as they had when the three Earth children came down the stairs earlier. 

"Well, what happened? Where's the killer?" the first policeman commanded.

Dr. Marbles sighed, then said, "The true killer has been taken care of; I doubt that you will ever see him in your presence again. In the meantime, we need a lift back to Control Central. I lent the children my only cybercoupe."

The policeman stared at the two, then turned to look at the policeman adjacent to him, as if asking permission to do so. The second policeman merely shrugged; the first policeman turned back to look at them. He sighed, then said, "Very well, I suppose we can give you two a lift. The two that you're holding at the moment look like they need care at once. And—" the policeman glanced at Buzz, then gasped and brought his hand to his mouth. "Good Lord, what in cyberspace happened to your side!"

"Huh?" Buzz said, still in thought, then realized what he was talking about and glanced down at his cut side. It was still stinging greatly, but in the flurry of past events he had let it slip past him…now he noticed once more that his side was completely totaled; that and it was still bleeding greatly, as robot blood couldn't scab over like ordinary human blood could. He wondered why he hadn't already passed out from blood loss…

After this, he turned his gaze up toward the policeman and said, "Oh…'dat's just what happened when I took care of 'da killer."

"He completely totaled you!" the policeman continued, his only eye still wide. "What—how—how did you take care of him?"

Buzz made an annoyed noise. Dr. Marbles looked at him, then turned back to look at the policemen. "He'd rather not answer questions right now…if you do want an answer, he was forced to stab him through the chest with Incaligur's rival. Now, if you don't mind, I suppose we could get a lift…"

"Oh, right!" the policeman said, quickly turning up his head and snapping out of his trance at the same time. "I suppose you'd best get on now…we're going to drop you off, then call the rest of the office to search the museum for evidence of who the killer actually was. He may be dead, but, like I said before, we still need a good clue of as to who exactly it was."

Buzz nervously looked up at the Doc, who returned the gaze, but the two said nothing and simply mounted the policemen's cyber-scooter. The second policeman on the scooter got in the front, then started it up. The scooter at once lifted itself off the ground, then took air, and they soon left Poddleville behind entirely…

"Matt? Matt? Answer us!"

The boy made a pained noise, then brought his hand up to his chest. The wound that had been inflicted in him earlier was bandaged over, but he could still feel the pain every time he did so much as twitch. He had remembered who had done this to him too…it was a dark figure, a figure of Delete's anatomy…he had stabbed the blade directly through his chest…he wondered why he was still alive after that. He also wondered where that odd voice was coming from…it seemed so far off…

"Matt!"

Even though his vision was clouded, and his hearing sounded to him like he had been submerged into a tank of water, he at once recognized the voice as Jackie's. Slowly removing his hand from his chest, he gave one or two raspy breaths, then finally said, as weakly as his breathing was, "Jacks?"

"Matt!" he heard her say again, only this time she sounded obviously—not to mention extremely—happy. He could feel her arms around his neck; he knew that this was because she didn't want to damage him more in the chest area. "Matt, we were afraid that you weren't going to make it—"

"Well, I did," Matt told them. He breathed deeply, then tried to sit up, even though he knew better, but as he did so a white-hot pain shot through his chest wound. He yelped in pain and fell back down onto the cot that he was recovering on. He heard Jackie make a frightened noise, and thus responded by saying, still weak, "I'm—I'm fine, Jacks, really."

"You sure don't sound fine," Inez commented. Matt groaned again, trying his best not to move, then finally made a response to this, as he could not remember what happened to him after everything went black, or even before, for that matter. It happened so quickly, and the loss of blood had made him too dizzy to think straight…

"What happened…to make me like this?" Matt panted. 

Jackie and Inez uneasily glanced at each other, then Inez drew a deep breath and said to him, "Matt, it was Delete who did this to you…he stabbed you through the chest when you went to confront him. He was about to kill Jackie, too, and he would've succeeded if it hadn't been for that sudden fall of the mobile shape—"

"Delete!" Matt said angrily, recalling what had happened before. "Where—where is that traitor? As soon as I find him I swear that I'll—"

"Calm down, Matt," Inez told him, gently placing her hand on his chest in order to prevent him from getting back up again. "Delete is being worked on in the other room. He was stabbed through the chest, or so the Doc told us, but the wound somehow closed, and it's now possible for him to be revived. You're just angry for what he's done, is all. Just calm down…"

"As soon as I can get back up again, I'll make it so that he's never revived," Matt growled angrily; then he took in a shaky breath and laid his head back down on the pillow. Inez and Jackie crossly looked at each other again; this wasn't something that they'd expect to hear out of Matt, but instead shook it off and sat down on either side of the bed next to him, so that they could be near his side until he fully recovered.

It was then that Digit came in. The three kids turned to look at him as he leaned against the doorway, then ran his wing along his forehead and said to them, "The Doc's almost got Delete rebooted…he's going to come to any minute now, he says."

They heard Matt growl; Inez, desperate to get the subject off of Delete's revival, quickly turned her gaze away from the boy entirely and said to Digit, "So, how are you doing? Any major internal damage to report?"

Digit shook his head; he looked greatly relieved as he did so. "The Doc examined me first, and he said that although the kick placed a lot of force on my internal areas, there wasn't any major damage to be reported. I'm just going to be a little bruised in that area for a few days, is all." He shrugged. "Of course, it's no big deal for me, seeing what I've been through already."

Inez nodded in relief. "That's good." She looked over at Matt, who still had his face set in a vengeful gaze, then turned back toward Digit, then looked at Jackie. Seeming to be lost for words, she shrugged her shoulder; the other two looked at her oddly, as if expecting her to do something more. She was about to ask how Buzz had been doing when Dr. Marbles finally arrived in the doorway, Buzz—his side heavily bandaged—at his side.

This answered her question at once; she felt no need to ask and merely smiled at the Doc the moment that she made eye contact. The Doc shot her a small smile back, then cleared his throat abruptly and announced, placing his hands behind his back, "I do believe that Delete is now fully booted, children. He is suffering from an internal injury due to the sword—" Buzz frowned slightly at the mention of this—"But after a few thorough scans of his structure I don't think it's quite that serious. He should be fine within a few days, but until then, Buzz, you must make up an excuse for his lewd behavior, not to mention his absence from the Wreaker."

Buzz made no verbal response but merely nodded, as Matt growled and said angrily, "You should've left him dead, Doc. The only way he's good is when he's dead, and I know that from experi—AAAH!" He tensed in shock as another surge of pain shot through his chest wound, stopping him short. He groaned, then brought his hand to his chest and panted a few times before finally returning to his normal state. Dr. Marbles shook his head in disapproval.

"Matt, if you know what's good for you it's best that you don't move," he ordered the boy. "Just relax yourself for the time being; you'll heal much faster that way."

"Right, Doc," Matt muttered; then he sank his head back down onto the pillow of the cot he was currently lying in, let out a long, slow breath, and closed his eyes, muttering, "He'll pay dearly for this…" The two girls looked at each other; they knew exactly whom Matt was talking about, but refused to say anything.

"May we see Delete?" Jackie finally asked the Doctor, breaking the stillness of the room as she looked up at him. "I want to see how he turned out…"

The Doc shook his head again. "No, I don't think I want him to have any visitors for the time being, with the possible exception of Buzz," he informed her. "Ever since I managed to boot his system, he hasn't regained consciousness, nor is he showing any sign of ever coming to it for quite a few days. He appears to be in some type of coma, but I think it was only the cause of the wound…either that or the moment of shock he received when Blackjack left him…" He trailed off as he stared past them, at the pale walls of the room.

"Oh…" Jackie stared down at the floor for a few moments, then finally turned to look back up at the Doc. "What about the policemen? What if they find out that he was the one who was terrorizing everyone? What happens then?"

"Well…" Dr. Marbles paused for a moment, then continued, sounding quite calm despite the situation that Delete had been put into, "He did steal Incaligur, and within his killing range he did over ten million cyber-dollars' worth of damage to the blade alone…he's also guilty for manslaughter."

"But it was Blackjack who was doing those things, not him," Digit pointed out.

Dr. Marbles nodded as he turned his gaze toward the bird. "We all know that very well, and I'm sure that the police won't be finding anything anytime soon…Blackjack, if I can recall, was quite good at covering up his tracks." He paused for a moment yet again, in deep thought. "But if they do manage to find anything, I'll inform them of all that has happened in the past few days. They do not know of Blackjack, I don't think, but they know that I am an honest man."

It was Jackie's turn to nod now. She glanced down at the floor again, finally realizing how hard it must've been for Delete…even for someone like her it was hard to imagine what you would think or feel if a demon had taken over your body, controlling your mind, your soul, like you were some kind of puppet and the demon was the puppeteer, making you dance with as little as one jerk of a string. She then thought of Delete in his coma state…_I hope he comes out of it soon_, she secretly hoped to herself as she rested her head in her hand…

The streets were dark this time of night, and Delete was shivering intensely as he slowly stepped down the damp sidewalk, his arms crossed tightly over his chest for warmth, and his only source of light being the moon overhead. It appeared to be pouring rain, which didn't help him any more; it was pattering down on his head, his shoulders, and soaking him thoroughly as he continued to walk. He shivered intensely, then drew his shoulders closer together and made several small noises from the back of his throat as he continued to step.

It was then that he looked up at the sky overhead, which was nearly entirely cloudy save the fact for the moon shining through a particularly thin cloud overhead. He shivered again and was about to turn his head back down when something warm, wet, and bright red plopped down onto his face. Curious, he raised his hand to his cheek, where the object had hit, then slowly ran his palm down it and drew it back. He then held it up to his face to examine it, and nearly gasped.

The object had turned out to be a rather large drop of blood…and it had fallen from the sky, of all places. He emitted a small whimper, then looked up toward the sky, his eyes wide, as the raindrops all changed from clear to bright red…they rained down on the streets, staining them bright red, coating everything in sight…he was included. He opened his mouth in a weak cry, then, deciding that it would be best to head back toward where he had come from, quickly whipped around—in time to see a figure that looked exactly like him, of a brilliant lavender hue, step out from behind a nearby, now blood-soaked building.

He knew immediately who this was, and uttered another small cry as he slowly drew back. Blackjack, however, would not take this for an answer, and, the lifeless expression on his face hardened and unchanging, slowly moved his feet forward in a step toward him. Delete, now whimpering softly, took another step back, his gaze still locked on Blackjack; Blackjack took another step forward in response.

Now clearly terrified out of his mind, Delete quickly whipped around and started to bolt down the street; however, Blackjack wasn't about to give up on him that easily. Delete heard him utter a low growl as he watched his victim depart, then he heard the sound of his clone's shoes striking the pavement. Blackjack was clearly chasing him…and there was nowhere to run. Every shadowed alley in this area, he knew, all had dead ends, and the street that he was currently running down now seemed to stretch on forever.

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere.

_He's going to chase me forever_, Delete thought to himself, swallowing hard as he continued to run, trying his best to pick up speed in hopes of losing Blackjack over the horizon. _He's going to do this to me for the rest of my life…and I can't go on like this forever…_

Behind him, he suddenly heard Blackjack shout through the bloody darkness, in an ice-cold, horrifying voice that made a chill run down his spine, "There's no use running! You cannot escape and you never _will_!" Delete continued to run, tears starting to stream down his face as he tried his hardest to lose Blackjack. Blackjack once again shouted through the darkness, even more coldly and loudly than the last time, "You have failed me, Delete! You have failed, and for that you must die! _YOU MUST DIE_!"

Delete uttered a quiet sob as he continued to run, trying to speed up but at the same time wanting more than anything to slow down. I was right, he thought to himself as he ran down the seemingly endless sidewalk. _I'll give anything just to have Buzz back…I want Buzz…I don't want to be alone…with Blackjack, of all things..._He panted harshly as he continued to run. _And my chest hurts…how my chest hurts…make it stop…make it stop…_

"Delete!"

Delete, upon hearing his name, finally felt the blackness leave him at long last. Groggily, he opened one eye partway, then shifted slightly and groaned, placing his hand on his chest. He still felt the tensing pain that had occurred in the alley with Blackjack…Blackjack…he wondered why he had suddenly left that dark street, why the voice calling him was no longer Blackjack's, and why he was no longer fleeing for his life. He whimpered this time, and clutched his chest with one hand, a few tears forming in his eyes from both pain and fright. Finally opening his eyes all the way, he could see a man who appeared to be Dr. Marbles, and Buzz, standing over him.

"Buzz…?" he whispered, his voice sounding rather weak; he then groaned again and brought his other hand to his chest, as Buzz finally smiled; the Doc did the very same.

"It's about time ya woke up!" Buzz exclaimed, giving him a playful punch in the arm. Delete yelped quietly from the impact, then removed his other hand from his chest and rubbed it on the area where Buzz had made contact. He shot his older brother an angry glare, then finally sighed and let his arm flop limply to the side. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to talk. He didn't even want to breathe, for that matter; he felt much too weak to seemingly do anything at the moment.

"What happened to me…?" he finally murmured, staring up lifelessly at the ceiling. The Doc and Buzz shot each other uneasy glances, then finally looked back down at the robot. Not wanting to tell him the full details, they were silent for a moment, as if in thought once again, then Buzz finally said, trying to change the subject, his voice sounding very forced:

"Delete…I'm sorry."

Delete's eyes widened slightly as he tilted his head over in his brother's direction. "You what?" he asked, at first not fully understanding what he was saying. Buzz growled, then said again, sounding rather annoyed this time, just as much as forced:

"I said 'dat I'm sorry, okay?"

"For what?" Delete asked. Buzz slapped his forehead in frustration, then continued:

"For calling you all 'dose names…I knew 'dat I shouldn't have, but I was somehow just, well, angry 'dat 'da boss took 'da whole glass square incident out on me, when it was you who'd caused it in the first place…I didn't exactly mean it—" He shifted his gaze to the side uneasily—"But either way I thought 'dat I owed yas an apology."

Delete smiled weakly at Buzz. "Aw, that's so nice—"

"Alright, alright, we don't need ta turn 'dis into a soap opera," Buzz interrupted, crossing his arms. He paused for a few moments, then continued, "You see, Delete, well, after I picked on yas…well, you sort of went of into a state of unconsciousness. We've been trying to get you rebooted for nearly—what, now, two or 'tree days now…" He couldn't help but think how fake the whole thing actually sounded to him. But of course he couldn't tell Delete that he had been possessed by Blackjack, stolen Incaligur, killed three people, injured another three, and was finally stabbed by Buzz himself…

Delete blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." He then smiled. "But you'll manage okay…we just need to keep you in for a day or so before we go back. But either way, I ain't going anywhere, so 'dere's no need to feel alone or hated anymore…" He paused for a moment, then, biting his lip and looking rather reluctant, finally said, "Uh, I suppose 'dat you can go ahead and…comfort yourself…"

Delete felt a few tears leave his eyes; he then picked Buzz up and hugged him tightly to his chest. Buzz didn't hate him after all…he wasn't alone anymore…and he knew that they would probably never experience something like this again, either one of them. He had Buzz's friendship back, and for now, that was all that mattered to him…

Meanwhile, near the storm gutters of the Cyberspace History Museum, blackish-red blood was still slowly trickling from the flood drain and down within the pipelines, which had rusted with age and were filled with water. The blood now slowly dripped its way into the drain, each drop plopping into the rusty-colored water at a steady pace, never faltering once. There had been a great deal of bloodshed, after all…

However, what no one ever would notice from this time on were the noises that came from within the gutter as the blood trickled down and mixed with the water of the flood drain. As the light from the policemen's flashlights beamed down upon the drain and flooded light through the narrow slits, the blood seemed to smoke before it faded into the water, and a quiet, hissing voice echoed its way throughout the tight, metallic walls:

"_Siht rof yap lliw uoy_…"

Before all fell silent forever more.

****

THE END


End file.
